Pernicious
by paisley is a kind of pattern
Summary: Teri, a blind girl from Keroon fears being useless more than anything. When circumstances remove her from her home, encounters with bandits, a dragon, and a firelizard challenge her to face her insecurities and change her life forever.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

I do not own Dragonriders of Pern. It all belongs to Anne McCaffrey.

Chapter 1

* * *

Teri's eyelids fluttered open and shallow breaths burned in her throat.

Alive.

She coughed weakly and gasped, pain from her bruised ribs paralyzing her momentarily. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears and millions of hot needles stabbed her skin as the blood stirred in her veins. Only pain and darkness registered in her sluggish mind, feeling slowly returning to her body.

It was so cold. Teri's hands burned from the frigid air. Her clothes stuck to her skin, wet and clammy. The chill had sunk deep into her muscles; her legs wouldn't obey what her mind told them to do. A knot of pain throbbed in her left temple and her eyes slid shut, weighed down with fatigue. Wetness trickled down her face, dripped into her mouth. The metallic tang of blood stained her tongue. She moved feebly, but something lay over her, pinning her down. Everything was silent. The only noises were the wind moaning through tree branches and her own harsh breathing.

_What happened?_

There had been voices. Screams, she remembered that, and the sound of the runnerbeasts' hooves. Wren's shriek as he launched off her shoulder into the air. Panicked footsteps rushing past, and hands pushing her roughly to the ground.

_Aren's hands._ She remembered his shouts, voice thin with fear, but nothing more after.

_Where is he? _He had tried to protect her, but what had happened to him?

"Aren." Her voice barely made it past her chapped lips, a broken whisper on the frosty air.

There was a shout and heavy footsteps ran towards her. Teri cried out and threw an arm over her face, fear overwhelming the memories emerging in her foggy mind.

_Help me!_


	2. Chapter 2: a few days earlier

Chapter 2

* * *

The clay rose and hollowed beneath Teri's hands, watery silt oozing between her fingers. Her legs quivered with exertion, but she pedaled resolutely. One more pot and she would be done. Four other vessels sat to her left, waiting to be baked and glazed. Their solid presence gave her confidence, the result of long hours of hard work. The comforting creaks and whispers of the potter's wheel filled her ears and she smiled. Nothing made her happier than the feel of smooth clay beneath her fingers. This is where she belonged, working for the Hold. No one could call her useless here. Teri imagined her next ambitious projects, works that would put even Lena in awe and shock. She was bored of the traditional round pots. They weren't challenging, or aesthetically pleasing. Teri tried to picture the beautiful vases she had seen traders selling as a child, but her memories failed her. Bitterness twisted her mouth, but she forced herself to straighten up with a toss of her head. _No self-pity for you,_ she chided herself.

Lost in thought, Teri let her forearms loosen and the thin wall of clay collapsed in her hands. The confidence she had felt evaporated like so many day dreams.

"Too bad, it was a beautiful pot," said a rueful voice behind her.

Teri jumped, startled. Her feet slipped on the crank and the wheel ground to a stop. "What are you doing here?" She detangled herself and turned to face the source of the voice, scowling.

Aren laughed and his stool scraped over the stone floor as he stood. "Sheath your claws. I was just admiring your work."

"More like scorning it." Her fingers shook as she cut the mangled clay off the cool stone of the wheel and tossed it into the refuse bucket at her foot. The presence of someone else so close to her secret dreams rattled her. "Why didn't you tell me you were here?" she snapped, anger masking the quivering of her voice.

Aren's warm hands pulled Teri to her feet. "You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to disturb you."

"You broke my concentration."

"The pot was ruined before I spoke."

The amusement in his tone softened Teri's ire, but stubbornness forced her to continue bickering. "You're a liar," She muttered, crossing her muddy arms across her front. Guilt twisted her insides for snarling at her loving brother, but she kept her irritated posture. "You're not supposed to be here anyways."

"What about you?" he retorted.

Heat rose in Teri's cheeks. She wasn't supposed to be working the wheel without the supervision of a more experienced potter. In fact, Lena didn't want her to try throwing at all until she had mastered hand pots. "I just wanted to get some practice."

"You've been here since dawn."

"Morning's the only time I can be in the workshop by myself."

Strong fingers squeezed her shoulder gently and tipped up her chin. "Why do you always want to be alone? You don't have to hide your work."

"I'm not hiding." Teri pulled out of his grasp and wiped her hands on her muddied apron. She tried to ignore Aren's quiet sigh. "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be plowing today?"

"It's a Gather Day, didn't you know? I didn't want you to be shut up all day and miss it."

Teri's stomach plummeted with dread. "Oh, no. I forgot. I should have been helping Lena at our stall hours ago." She pulled the apron off over her head hastily, fumbling about her for her staff. "I'm so late. Where's my cane? Where does she have the stall set up?"

Aren pressed the smooth length of wood into Teri's hand. "You didn't tell me you had a job."

"Lena asked me," Teri answered vaguely. She didn't want to admit how she had begged to be given a chance. "I've got to get out there."

"Not so fast," Aren caught her by the elbow. "You need some food. You've been in here all morning." Teri opened her mouth to protest, but he was already pulling her out the door.

Sunlight warmed Teri's face as they entered the courtyard. A cool breeze brought in the sounds of the crowds and faint strains of lilting music from outside the Hold. The usually bustling courtyard was quiet, everyone Gathered outside to celebrate good weather and the absence of Thread. The smell of freshly baked bubbly pies reached her nose and her stomach rumbled painfully. She couldn't wait to go outside and devour a couple of the tasty treats, but no doubt Lena would keep her miserably busy for her truancy. Lena was the Hold's most advanced potter, but she was famous for more than her ability with clay. The older woman had a tongue like a whip. Teri never could tell when the barbs were coming, and surprise made them sting all the more. It was a shock when Lena had apprenticed Teri. Not many people in the Hold even acknowledged her existence, except with pity. Teri was eager to live up to the honor, but fear of failure kept her constantly apprehensive. This was Teri's only opportunity to master a Craft and contribute to her Hold. She didn't want to disappoint Lena, or be on the receiving end of the older woman's caustic remarks.

The sun left Teri's face and her ears adjusted to the indoors as they entered the dining hall. Aren's hands guided her to a bench and he left, his footsteps headed towards the kitchens. Teri wrung her clay caked hands unconsciously, imagining what Lena would say.

"_Irresponsible, wasteful, disobedient. Just because you're blind doesn't mean you're above the rules of the Hold."_ Teri sighed. It was a hard truth, but Lena's frankness was refreshing. Ever since Teri had lost her sight to fever four Turns ago, she had been treated as if she were made of glass. No one raised his voice to her or asked her for anything, except to stay out of the way. Lena was the only one who scolded her. In fact, no one spoke to her at all anymore, apart from Aren. Her friends had distanced themselves during her illness and recovery. When she could finally take her meals in the public dining hall, they never approached her. It was as if she had become a complete stranger. Teri had fallen through the holes in the social network to become a nobody.

There seemed to be no place for a young blind girl at Keroon Hold. Almost everything that needed to be done took place outdoors or with the beasts. Teri was not allowed outside by herself and never near the stables, for fear she would get injured or trampled. Most of the time, Teri cared for the elders: rubbing the Aunties' feet and listening to the Uncles' stories. They had fewer inhibitions about making her work, but their crotchetiness irritated her to no end. She missed company of her own age. Sometimes she felt more like an elder than their caretaker, for she wasn't allowed to fetch anything or leave the cot where they stayed. For a short stretch she had helped the Harper teach, but it wasn't permanent. She could sing fairly well, but couldn't read scores.

Teri wanted to do something tangible, not meaningless chores that just kept her out of the way. She was much more capable than most of the holders believed. With her cane, Teri had navigated the entire Hold without mishap many times. She had good muscle memory. If given the opportunity, she could master many different tasks around the Hold. It would take time and hard work, but she could do it. It was so frustrating when others didn't treat her like a person. Without something to prove her worth, she felt like a legless runner. Or a wingless dragon.

The sound of Aren's returning footsteps pulled Teri out of her reverie.

"Here," a wet cloth dropped onto her lap as Aren sat beside her. Delicious smells rose from a tray he held against her elbow. "I don't want you eating all that clay with your food." Teri murmured her thanks and began the task of cleaning off her hands.

Aren sighed and the bench creaked as he stretched. "Shards, it's nice to have the Hold empty. It's getting to the point where one can't breathe when everyone's inside during Fall."

Teri murmured in agreement. "The sleeping quarters can't hold many more people, unless they squish entire families in one room."

"I for one would do anything to keep that from happening. You, sister, snore to shake the roof down," said Aren.

"I do not!" Teri hurled the washcloth in Aren's direction. There was a satisfying wet smack and an exclamation of surprise. Teri stuck her tongue out and reached for the tray. "You sound like a drowning wherry."

"At least I don't wet the bed," said Aren, handing her a meat roll.

"I haven't soiled myself since I was three!" said Teri indignantly.

Aren chuckled and helped himself to a slice of bread. "Lord Melan wants to build more cots along the west fields, but there isn't enough stone left in the quarries. He's also planning to send out another batch of fosterlings to relieve the population pressure. They'll probably leave with the traders after the Gather."

Teri smirked and selected a juicy quarter of melon. "Who do you think will be fostered?" Juice dribbled down her chin and her voice was garbled around her mouthful of fruit.

"I don't know, but there are several people who are itching to get out of here, and some that Lord Melan is itching to get rid of," said Aren.

Teri paused, her half eaten melon dripping onto her hands. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

"Well," said Aren, wrapping his arm around Teri's shoulders, "there are just certain unproductive people to whom he would strongly suggest leaving."

The food went dry in Teri's mouth and she struggled to swallow. "You mean he would force people out of the Hold?"

Aren didn't seem to sense his sister's distress, shifting his position on the hard bench. "No, Lord Melan doesn't believe in that practice. He's a good man. He'd probably just encourage some people to try their skills in a new environment."

Teri put her unfinished fruit on the tray and gripped her cane hard, pulling away from Aren's arm. "I think I should be going to help Lena now." She felt sick to her stomach with cold fear.

"Finished already? But you hardly ate anything," said Aren, concerned.

Teri nodded tautly. "I don't want to be later than I already am. Lena is not patient." _Certain unproductive people_. The phrase echoed in her head.

Aren took the tray and held her hand in his. "You know Teri, you don't have to prove yourself to anyone. You are important in more ways that you know." He gently drew her into a hug. "I love you and I don't want you to get hurt."

Teri rested her head against Aren's chest and tried to let his solid heartbeat calm her. She knew she was safe inside the warm walls of his arms, but what about outside? She sighed and softly pulled away. "It is a Gather Day, don't you want to go and enjoy yourself?" She tried to brighten her tone with a smile, but only managed a weak twitch.

Aren chucked her beneath the chin and gently tousled her short hair. "Just don't wear yourself out. You don't have to change yourself to please anyone." His hands were at her waist and he tucked the remaining rolls into her belt pouch. "Take these for later, just in case you get your appetite back."

Teri took his hand and followed him out of the dining hall. She loved her brother so much, but he just didn't know how much she needed to be wanted. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for whatever words Lena had in store.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Aren poured himself a glass of wine and downed it in one draught. Worried chased themselves around in his head, not only about Teri, but also including the state of the Hold. Aren was no Lord Holder, but he knew Keroon, and his home was nearly on the brink of collapsing. Not enough beasts had birthed in the spring, and the extended cold had frozen the grain fields, making it near impossible to plow. There wouldn't be enough to support the growing population of the Hold, much less tithe to the Weyr. It seemed every season the tithe grew more and the crop less.

Many of the lesser holders were too discontent to ignore. Mutinous mutterings always seemed to grumble on the fraying edge of every conversation. And it wasn't solely isolated to Keroon either. Some of the more perceptive wondered if this was the breeding ground for revolution.

The only war Pernese should ever wage was against Thread.

Aren sighed and eyed the ruby liquid sloshing in the bottles suspiciously, the acid taste twisting his mouth. He had forgotten how much he disliked wine.

"It does taste better a little at a time," said a pleasant voice. A dusty young man smiled at him wearily, leaning against a round cask of ale. From the knots on his shoulder, Aren surmised that he was a journeyman Vintner from Benden. "I'm Davner," he said, extending his hand.

Aren returned the greeting with a smile, pushing aside his troubling thoughts. "Aren."

Davner's grin widened and he bobbed his head. "You from around here?"

"Yes, Keroon born and bred," Aren replied. "What about you?"

The other man shrugged narrow shoulders. "Everywhere, pretty much. Born in Tillek, fostered in Crom, somehow ended up in the Vintner Craft at Benden. We just came here from Igen and surrounding holds. Stayed in a couple of cot holds on the western fringe during the last Fall."

"I didn't know that your caravan was here through Fall," said Aren.

"We're a pretty small group, easy to miss," said Davner with a chuckle. "Makes traveling a lot faster. You get around much?"

Aren shook his head. "No, I'm content here, herding the beasties."

"Too bad. It's a great world out there to see. Got family?"

"Only my younger sister. My parents died of fever a couple Turns back," said Aren slowly, looking down at the ground. It wasn't as hard to say as before, but Aren was glad that the vintner didn't ask him to elaborate.

Davner nodded sympathetically and heaved the barrel on its side. "Never knew my family, only foster parents."

"Ah." Aren put down his empty glass. "Do you need help with that?" he asked, motioning at the cask.

Davner smiled. "I'd appreciate it," he said.

Aren obliged eagerly, wanting to do something with his restless energy. Too much worrying had made him fidgety as a lizard queen before a mating flight. _Well, not that kind of fidgety_. His smirk faded before it even touched his lips. _Why am I so restless?_ he wondered. The crowded state of the Hold didn't help, but he knew the root of his unease lay deeper. Maybe he needed to travel, to experience new things and find room to actually stretch out. He had never given much thought to the idea, but he was getting to the point where he just needed to get away. _But from what? Keroon? Teri? _Aren gave a mental shrug.

Teri was old enough to take care of herself, and she was never really alone. Her little bronze fire lizard followed her everywhere. Sometimes Aren thought his claws were rooted into her shoulder.

Half a Turn ago, Aren and his friends had found a fire lizard clutch on the southern coast. Each of them was given an egg as a reward, but Aren's had Impressed Teri instead. She didn't know it, but her brother had purposefully stayed away from the egg so she could Impress, relying on her to turn it in the warm sand. It had worried him, how delighted Teri was for the responsibility of such a simple task. Not enough people were sensitive to her silent cries, and being the only one who loved her was so exhausting.

Aren belatedly realized that Davner was speaking to him. He shook his head and gave his attention to the other man.

"That's the last one there," said Davner, dusting off his hands.

"Do you have any more work you need help with?" asked Aren.

"Nah. I've got the rest of the day off now. Thanks for your help." He flashed Aren a quick smile. "Want to get a drink or something? Maybe I can teach you how to appreciate good wine."

Aren wavered, wanting to accept, but unsure of whether he should. _Wait, why not?_ Why did he have misgivings? Between the time he spent with Teri and on work, he hardly had any time to socialize. It had been a while since he had spent much time with company his own age. He was getting too wound up in his thoughts. _It is a Gather, _he reminded himself. _Stop focusing on your worries. Just enjoy yourself._ Aren chuckled and nodded. "Who else to learn from than a Vintner? Lead the way."

After a few hours and several more drinks, Aren's head buzzed pleasantly. Wine still didn't rank among his favorites, but he was learning some of its merits. The alcohol and Davner's light banter loosened his cramped muscles and he stretched out. The other man was easy to talk with, asking earnest questions and telling amusing anecdotes of his time on the road. Aren found he was content to listen and let Davner do all the talking. Evening was approaching smoothly and drudges hung glow baskets around the square. A quartet of Harpers spoke quietly to each other on the dais, their nimble fingers curled protectively around drums, flutes, and gitars. Their foreheads shone with perspiration from a long afternoon of performing.

Aren tilted his head back and gazed at the cloudy sky stained with brilliant hues. The air was cool but dry on his skin, easy in his lungs compared to the dusty fields. _The Hold should do this more often,_ he thought. Everyone needed a break from the claustrophobic confines of the Hold. It was such a relief to stretch out beneath that vast expanse of sky.

"Wonderful weather, isn't it?" said Davner. "It's been cold as ice lately, especially on the road." He grinned. "But it doesn't make it any less worth it."

Aren looked at the other man quizzically. "Sounds miserable as a wher's den to me."

"I love it. I don't mind any of the troubles we get traveling. I wouldn't give up sleeping under the open sky for anything." Davner grinned, a far away expression on his face.

"Aren't you afraid of Thread?" The mere mention of the ancient menace made Aren shiver. He felt nauseous, recalling the blaring Thread klaxons and the claustrophobic press of people using up all the air. There never was enough room to get a decent breath and the fans couldn't relieve the choking sensation Aren always felt. He had been born in the middle of the current Pass, and knew nothing other than the frequent lockdowns.

Davner shrugged. "We only try to go out in the long periods between Falls. Most of our routes are riddled with good sized caves anyways. Our caravan's small enough to fit into most."

"Have you ever been caught out during Fall?" asked Aren.

"Once or twice, but we were able to find shelter," said Davner nonchalantly. "Otherwise, we'd have to trust the Weyrs. We have flamethrowers as a last resort. But most of the time we'll stay out Fall in whatever Hold we're at."

Davner's account inspired in Aren an adventurous thrill. There was something attractive about the risky freedom the other man lived. _But that could never be me,_ thought Aren with a mental sigh. _I belong here, not rootless on the road._ It was the truth, but he still felt a twinge of disappointment.

"How long was the trip from Igen?" asked Aren.

"About four days," replied Davner. "It was fast moving. The roads are all dust though, without rain to hold it down. I just about coughed up my lungs trying to get a good breath."

Aren nodded in agreement. "It's the same in the fields. Odd that it would be so dry and cold at the same time."

"At least it means less Thread," said Davner.

"I'll drink to that," said Aren, raising his glass. Davner filled it with more golden wine that sparkled in the light of the glows. "How much longer will you be staying?" asked Aren.

"Not long," said Davner, pouring the last of the wine in his own glass. "We'll probably leave in a few days to Benden. It doesn't seem like there'll be another Fall over this area for the next sevenday."

Aren smiled. "It's a good thing you don't have to stay another Fall here. It gets so crowded in the Hold, sometimes I get tempted to sleep in the stables with the runnerbeasts."

Davner nodded and put the empty bottle on the table. They were amassing a collection, of all different kinds of wine. "That's how it is in a lot of major Holds. People been celebrating a little too much with the missus, eh?" He waggled his brows suggestively, a devilish glint in his grey eyes. "But it is getting pretty serious. Some Lord Holders have had to force out their undesirables to relieve the pressure on their resources."

"Really?" Something from Aren's memory wiggled at the back of his mind, but he dismissed it. "I didn't think it was that bad everywhere else." He frowned, trying to identify of what it reminded him. "It seems Pern is getting too small for all of us."

Davner sighed. "These are bad times to be living in. Not many of the holdless wandering around are innocents."

"Have you had much trouble?" asked Aren.

"Not much that we couldn't drive off, but if bandits decide to get organized…" he shrugged. The nonchalant gesture conflicted with the tightening of his eyes. "This is our last Cross by ourselves. Once we reach Benden, we'll probably pick up with another group. It's just too dangerous to travel in small numbers."

Aren only gave half an ear to Davner's comments, watching the wine swirl in the bottom of his glass. He couldn't remember what it was that he had forgotten. _I'm just so tired,_ he thought with a yawn. _Or maybe it's the wine._

The Harpers struck up a merry melody and several couples drifted onto the floor to dance. Aren pursed his lips resignedly and let his attention turn to the twirling silhouettes. The festive music and cool onset of night pulled on his already heavy eyelids and Aren settled back to enjoy the rest of the evening, leaving his troubles for morning.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

"Fostered?" Teri gripped her staff hard, leaning on it for support as her knees wobbled. "When was this decided?" The world went faint around her, blood surging through her ears. Wren shifted his weight on her shoulder and crooned softly. The fire lizard was extremely sensitive to her emotions, but not smart enough to know what to do.

"I was told last night, after the Gather."

Teri regained her balance, but her mind was still reeling. She didn't notice when Wren pressed his head against her cheek comfortingly. _How? This isn't a dream. I can see in my dreams._ She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them slowly to make sure. "Who decided this?" Her voice was husky in her ears and her throat ached with swallowed cries.

"Lord Melan. And your foster mother." Lena's voice was quiet, but flat.

"Mhera? Why?" She was breathing heavily, yet she didn't seem to get enough air. "Why would they want Aren fostered?"

"Your foster mother has her reasons, and Lord Melan the authority. Aren is one of many. I believe he is worthy of more opportunities."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Teri-"

"You don't know how much he loves it here! You don't know how hard he's worked!" Teri cried. _You don't know how much I need him!_ She swiped angrily at the tears welling in her eyes, not bothering to calm Wren as he hissed. "You're all wrong!"

Lena's voice lowered menacingly, but the quaver in her tone belied her distress. "You forget yourself, apprentice."

Teri sniffled and bit her lip to keep back an angry retort. She could feel the pressure building up in her chest. Months of swallowing the older woman's sharp remarks had eaten away at Teri's reserve, leaving a thin shell to hold back the torrent.

"This is not a personal decision. There are simply too many people. The Hold does not have enough resources to meet demands. People have to go."

"But why Aren!"

"That's enough!" Lena snapped. "You're dismissed." Her shoes scuffed the stone floor as she turned. "Go make yourself useful elsewhere."

Teri felt her way to the door and pushed out into the courtyard, pressing her lips together against a flood of tears. A rush of cold air stung her cheeks; no sunlight warmed the wind. The Hold was unusually busy for such an early time in the morning. Calls and shouts hung in the air, mixing with the noises of hurrying feet and kitchen bustle. Footsteps passed her, leaving behind the echoes of brisk chatter. Teri tripped and fell on the cobblestones, her palm throbbing and knuckles bruised. Wren creeled in agitation and leaped into the air. His claws stung her shoulder as he pushed off. An anonymous hand helped her up with an exclamation of concern. The unfamiliar voice sounded too high in her ears, words tumbled together like pebbles. Teri mumbled her thanks and pushed on, counting her steps to the other side.

Inside the hallway was quieter and warmer, but echoes of the Hold's activity still rumbled around her. Teri knocked hard on Aren's door, hoping he wasn't already out in the fields. He shared a room with three other fosterlings, but Teri had never spoken to them before. She snuffled and wiped her cheeks with her sleeve, hating herself for her weakness. It always seemed that she cried at the least provocation.

"Aren! Aren, are you there?" Teri shouted. More tears streamed down her cheeks, but she let them fall. The wood of the door disappeared beneath her fist and she stumbled inwards.

"Teri! What are you doing here?" Firm arms caught her weight and pulled her upright. "I have to pack Aren's things."

Teri recognized the voice as Mhera's and her sorrow flared into anger. She pulled sharply away from her foster mother's grasp. "What did you do?"

"Teri! What-"

"What did you do to Aren?" She felt her features distorting pitifully in her effort to hold in her tears, and it only served to make her angrier.

"Oh, Teri." Mhera's hands reached out to catch Teri's face but she turned aside, pushing them away.

"Why would you have Aren fostered?" she demanded.

"Wait, Teri. You're upset, you don't-" Her foster mother's voice was cajoling, and at that moment, Teri hated her.

"Of course I'm upset! Do you know what you've done?" she cried.

Mhera's hands stiffened and she dropped her grasp and soothing tone. "Done? You make it sound like it's my fault."

"It is!" Teri stomped her foot to accentuate her words. Shame at the childishness of the gesture momentarily cooled her ire, but she was too far in the grip of her emotions to care much. A small, rational part of her knew that it truly wasn't Mhera's fault, but the rest of her needed someone to blame, someone to hate and on which to pour out all of her confusion and fear.

"Don't say something you'll regret, Teri," said Mhera in thinly veiled warning.

Teri ignored it and plunged on recklessly. "You don't even know him!" she howled, digging her fingers into the hard wood of the doorframe. "Did you even ask him? You can't just make decisions like this. You're not his mother!"

Mhera's voice dropped dangerously. "Stop, Teri. You don't know everything."

"I know Aren'd never want to be fostered! You'll break his heart by sending him away!"

"At least he has another Hold to go to!" Mhera snapped. "We're lucky Benden is accepting our fosterlings, or else they would all become holdless."

Teri covered her face with trembling hands, her staff clattering on the floor. There was a roaring sound in her ears and her head felt like it was going to burst, all her confused emotions hammering on her skull.

Mhera gripped Teri's elbows to steady her. "Control yourself, Teri. Dramatic outbursts won't help anything. Your brother is going and there's nothing you can do."

Teri knew it was true, her hate spent just enough to allow her to acknowledge it, and it tore out the bottom of her stomach. "He's my only family." All the fire went out of her and defeated, she leaned her head onto her foster mother's shoulder, each shuddering breath a struggle. She missed her mother suddenly, grief hollowing out her insides. She wanted so much to cry into a soft shoulder, folded in a loving embrace. For a moment, half hearted hope floated to the surface of her heart, but Mhera's arms stayed awkwardly rigid around her. Teri sighed and pulled away. "What about me?" she asked quietly.

Mhera paused before answering in a low voice, "You're staying."

Earlier, Teri would have felt relieved and overjoyed, but now fear tightened her stomach. The prospect of being left alone made her sick. "No. I can't," she said, her voice a thin squeak.

"You have to. You can't go. It would be better for you if you stayed. Don't you remember," Mhera hesitated, "the other time?"

"You mean Nerat?" Teri's heartbeat tripped in fear as memories of her previous fostering experience flooded into her mind. Her voice was raw from unearthing the pain she had tried so hard to bury. Half a Turn of pure desolation. She had never been so alone, or so afraid. It had been the worst time of her life and she never wanted to repeat it again.

"Yes," said Mhera haltingly. "Based on your past experience, I think it's best that you stay at your home Hold."

"You would take away my only family and leave me to live alone because of one time?"

"Teri-"

"That's not all, is it? It's because I'm blind, isn't it? I can't see, so of course I can't be strong enough to endure a change." Teri's face twisted from an effort to hold in her bitterness.

"Stop pitying yourself," said Mhera with a hint of disgust in her impatience. "You should be thankful that you get to stay."

"Because I'm blind!" Teri cried, shaking.

Mhera's voice was tight. "Don't, Teri. Your condition has nothing to do with this."

"You're lying. It has everything to do with this! You've never let me use my blindness as an excuse, so why coddle me now?"

"Teri," Mhera began, but Teri cut her off.

"Tell me!" she demanded.

The other woman exhaled. "Fine."

The silence stretched, and Teri opened her mouth, wanting to call back her words. She wished she could see, wished she knew what Mhera's expression was. Her stomach fluttered in fear. _Maybe I shouldn't have said so much._

"They don't want you, Teri. Benden doesn't want more people to support who can't contribute." Mhera spoke quietly, quickly to get it over with as soon as possible.

Teri's stomach dropped and the last remnants of her indignation fled. "But, I can-" Mhera's words had stripped away her remaining resolve. She wavered, unable to accept what she had feared. "What about my apprenticeship? My pottery?"

"Teri, I asked Lena to give you an apprenticeship." Mhera sighed, weary and sounding defeated. "I didn't want to see you suffer and, well, I thought working would be a good diversion."

Teri's pressed cold hands against her burning cheeks. _A diversion? It was just a diversion?_ She didn't notice as Mhera lead her to the side of the bed and sat her down on the smooth furs.

"So none of it was real?" Her voice was so small. She felt like a child again, like when she had first awakened from her fever to complete darkness.

Mhera rubbed Teri's back awkwardly. "I'm so sorry. I never thought you would love it so much."

Teri held her head in her hands as Mhera's words flowed over her. Her foundation had been ripped from under her feet and she didn't know how she could stand. _First Aren, now this. What else is left?_ Alone and divested of her dreams. All feeling slowly drained out of Teri's body, leaving emptiness. It was all too much for her to take in. Teri lowered herself onto the floor and felt across the stone for her staff.

"Teri? Teri, please stay," Mhera pleaded, her skirts rustling as she stood. "Maybe we can talk."

Teri didn't reply. Bracing the butt of her staff against the ground, she pulled herself up and made her way to the door.

"Teri, where are you going?" asked Mhera anxiously.

"To pack," Teri whispered.

Mhera grabbed her arm tightly. "No, Teri, you can't. I told you Benden won't take you."

Teri jerked away. "Who said I'm going to Benden?" She turned and hurried into the hall, the sound of her cane on the floor echoing in her ears.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

The sun was an orange ball hanging on the horizon as the great gates of Keroon disappeared in the distance. Aren stared at it dully, his thoughts far from the present. It was cold, and a biting wind whistled down from the east, going straight through Aren's wool jacket. No poor orphan could afford wherhide. He shivered, but felt too lethargic to button up his coat. The hurried mug of klah he had had with breakfast seemed so long ago.

"Aren!"

Davner's voice barely reached Aren's ears before the wind whipped it away. He sighed and turned reluctantly.

_I'm not in the mood for this._

The purple afterimage of the sun hung superimposed in Aren's vision where the other man's head should have been. He wished he could block out the rest of him as easily. All he wanted was to think in solitude.

"How goes it with you?" Davner asked.

"Well enough," Aren replied automatically. He could barely muster the will to put feeling into his words. "And you?"

"Fine." Davner grinned and shifted his pack. "I'm ready to get on the road again. Get a bit itchy, staying in one spot for too long."

Aren shrugged and smiled weakly, staring at his dusty boots, too tired to give a proper response.

"I'm glad you're coming with us." Davner clapped Aren on the back. "I think getting out in the world will be good for you."

The other man's words and the contact grated at Aren's nerves. "Sure," he muttered dully.

"No, really, fostering will be a great experience," said Davner with an earnest expression on his face. "It's just a wonder why it's waited till now."

Aren winced. Davner's comments had unwittingly reopened a wound that had been festering for the last couple of days. The last thing he wanted to talk or hear about was fostering. And sisters.

To Aren's dismay, the other man latched onto the subject, launching into a narrative of his previous experiences in different Holds. Aren sighed, resigning himself to listen. He didn't want to be rude, nor did he have the will to cut Davner off. At least it was better than falling into the tangled mess of his thoughts.

The caravan maintained the same steady pace as the day wore on. They moved quickly, eating on the go rather than stopping to make camp. Some harpers accompanied the train, strings of song momentarily relieving the feeling that they were on a death march.

Or so it seemed to Aren. His disquiet grew with every step they took away from Keroon, fingering the small bundle in his pocket. It was a pendant he had bought for Teri at the Gather, but he hadn't had the opportunity to give it to her. He hadn't said goodbye to Teri before he left, or rather, she hadn't said goodbye to him. In fact, he hadn't even seen her since the morning of the Gather. It was as if she had been avoiding him. Fatigue had made him abandon his search for her, and a little selfishness. He was tired of being selfless, constantly sensitive to her needs because she was too proud to admit weakness and ask for herself. It was a relief not to worry about her anymore.

Yet, leaving without a farewell weighed on his conscience. He had to constantly resist the urge to throw down his pack and bolt back home. Pure stubbornness kept his feet moving forwards.

Aren let his breath out and rubbed his temples wearily. Teri would be devastated. She needed him, he knew that. He had always been her protector, ever since they were children. But then why would she avoid him before he left?

_It's not your fault, just forget about it,_ he told himself. He had done all he could. Teri would get over it in time.

_But will I?_ With a frown, Aren pushed the thought away and concentrated on walking.

---

The wagon rolled and bumped slowly forwards, ropes and wheels creaking. Teri shifted her weight awkwardly on the hard wooden boards, her rear going numb. Her elbows and knees bumped the crates boxing her in and the rough tarp overhead kept her head down. She could feel her neck tensing up. Wren perched in her lap, his wings rustling as he flipped them idly.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she whispered.

Wren chirped questioningly and she snorted.

"Well you're comfortable enough." She sighed and tried not to concentrate on the ache growing in her back. "You could have picked a bigger spot."

Teri shook her head, but wonder and admiration softened her irritation. Finding this hiding spot had been an amazing feat on Wren's part. She really had no idea of what fire lizards were capable.

Teri had somewhat forgotten about her blindness when she thought of her plan to stow away in one of the caravan's wagons. She couldn't very well find the wagons much less hide in one without help. Then Wren had revealed his wonderful talent. It was he who had discovered and lead her to the tiny nook in which they crouched. He sent her images from his flights around the Hold, creating a sort of mental map. Teri still marveled over the experience, finding her way to the wagons and crawling into their spot. For those moments she had walked and moved with the sureness of sight.

But what next? She had found a way to accompany the caravan unnoticed, but it wasn't permanent. Surely she wouldn't ride all the way to Benden crammed in this tiny space! Would she reveal herself? Would the travelers accept her? And after? Her plans didn't extend past getting into the wagon. She hadn't thought much about what she'd do once they reached their destination. Assuming that she was with them when they did.

_They don't want you, Teri. Benden doesn't want more people to support who can't contribute._

Mhera's words echoed in her mind and her hands began to sweat from fear. What would happen when they reached Benden? Would she truly be turned away, sent back to Keroon, or worse, made holdless? Teri shuddered at the thought and pulled Wren closer. They said that firelizards ate Thread, so maybe the little bronze could give her some protection if she were forced out. Wren caught some of her anxiety and crooned, fidgeting against her chest.

Teri heaved a sigh, one moment regretting her rash action, the next sure that it was the only solution. She couldn't bear to stay at Keroon after learning that she had been led on with false hope, devoting so much time and energy to a dream that could never be achieved. Especially without Aren. Teri loved him so much, she couldn't bear to lose him. She had always been closest to him for as long as she could remember. He was the last remnant she had of a happier life before the fevers. She couldn't be left behind to live a life stripped of meaning. Teri scrubbed at her dry eyes wearily, assuring herself that there was no other way.

If Benden wouldn't accept her, then she would be in the same position as if she had stayed. Really, she had nothing to lose. Teri took a deep breath in the confining space, the air stuffy around her. She purposely didn't think about being left holdless.

The wagon came to a jolting stop and voices sounded outside, footsteps crunching close. Teri's heart leapt into her mouth and she huddled against the crate.

_What'll I do?_ she thought frantically. _Will they find me? Will I be in trouble? How can I possibly explain?_ Her great plans suddenly seemed foolish and childlike in her mind.

The tarp was pulled away with a gust of cold wind and she cried out in fear. Exclamations of shock drowned her out, one familiar voice rising above the rest.

"Teri! What are you doing here?"

---

Aren balled his fists tight, glaring at Teri sitting across from him. They sat to the side of the fire, in the middle of an argument. The rest of the caravan gave them a wide berth, congregating by the wagons on the fringe of the firelit clearing, pretending that they weren't listening intently. Aren sighed, annoyance burying the happiness he had felt to see Teri. Her eyes stared at a point somewhere above his left shoulder, her chin lifted in defiance. He wished she could see his face, so he wouldn't have to verbalize everything. Expressions spoke volumes, he realized, and it was so much harder to get his point across without that contact.

"No, absolutely not!" said Teri, her expression resolute. Aren wished he could dismiss it as a childish sulk, that she was arguing simply because she didn't want to admit he was right, but there was a determined set to her face.

"Teri, you don't understand," said Aren and he forced himself to relax his hands, drying his sweaty palms on his pants.

"No, you don't. I can understand everything, you're just treating me like a child," she snapped.

"Because you're acting like one!" said Aren through gritted teeth. He was losing his patience. "Just listen to me."

Teri's hands tightened on the blanket wrapped around her. "I'm not going back."

Aren swallowed a frustrated growl. When did those icy eyes ever blink? "You have to because you can't stay with us. Benden won't take you."

"How would you know? Did you ask them?" she shot back.

"You just can't do things like this!" said Aren and ran one hand through his curls, frustrated with her constant taunts.

"Why not? Isn't it natural to want to stay with your family?" Teri's eyes reddened and her nostrils flared with the effort of keeping control of her emotions.

"It's not safe," said Aren sullenly, wishing he had a better reply.

"I'm not helpless!" Teri shouted.

"I'm not saying you are!" The merchants' heads came up at Aren's outburst, then they quickly looked away. Aren bit the inside of his cheek and exhaled hard through his nose.

"Then what are you saying?" Teri's eyes reflected the firelight as she lifted her chin in challenge.

Aren looked down at his hands, weathered and callused from working in the fields. "I can't be looking over my shoulder for you all the time," he said quietly.

Teri narrowed her eyes and scoffed. "You don't have to."

"No you don't get it. I can't not look after you." Aren gestured helplessly. "I've done it my whole life. I love you too much to let anything happen to you."

Teri's defiance wilted visibly and she shrunk into the folds of her blanket. Glimpses of a vulnerable young girl showed through her armor. "I can't go back," she said softly. "There's nothing left for me there."

"There's nothing for you at Benden either," Aren reminded her gently.

Her thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I can hope, can't I?" She shivered and drew her blanket around her tighter. "They wouldn't really turn me out, would they?"

Aren inhaled, the cold air stinging in his throat. "No." He sighed. "I hope Pernese are better than that."

"What will happen to me if they do?" asked Teri.

Aren squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to consider that possibility. _Why didn't you think about that before you hid in the wagon!_

"They won't." He had to believe that. But still, there was a chance that the Benden holders really were that desperate.

He didn't know what to think. Half of him was relieved to see Teri here, comforted to have her with him. The rest of him was disappointed. It had been refreshing to think about starting a new life without any baggage.

_Baggage? Is that what I think Teri is?_ The loyal older brother denied it emphatically, but a small part of him agreed with a clear conscience. He had to take care of her if she was with him. And as much as she denied it, she couldn't cope on her own.

_Then how can I send her back to Keroon by herself?_

Aren's eyes opened slowly. It took more effort than he thought it would, weariness weighing him down. Teri stared sightlessly at the fire, her face tight with doubt and worry. She looked so small, drowning in the loose blanket. Aren sighed and pushed away his frustration, moving to sit beside her.

"It's late," he said, wrapping her up gently. "You're tired, I am too. We'll talk about this in the morning."

She turned her face to him and nodded dumbly. "I'm so sorry, Aren."

Aren exhaled and pulled her into a hug. "Me too." He tightened his arms around her, unable to think about her hurt in any way. Teri was so much a part of him, and too much at the same time.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said, reaching into his pocket. "This is for you."

"What is it?" asked Teri, untying the wrappings.

"It's a pendant of a wildflower, like the ones you always used to pick for me in the fields. Remember?"

Teri's lips turned upwards in a small smile. She ran her fingers over the tiny laquer petals. "I remember. You never liked them. You said flowers were for girls."

"I lied," Aren whispered.

Teri chuckled softly and her smile grew.

"Here." Aren took the pendant and looped it around Teri's neck, tying it securely. She leaned into him with a weary sigh, one finger tracing the shape of the flower against her chest. For a moment, Aren felt at peace with the comforting weight of her head against his shoulder, the dancing firelight filling him with drowsy warmth. If only they could stay in that place. He tilted his head back and stared at the cloudy sky, wondering what the morning would bring.


	6. Chapter 6: the present

Chapter 6

* * *

R'meri held his gloved hands over his frozen ears, muttering sourly to himself. The wind shrilled past, biting into his skin and threatening to topple him from his seat. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his neck down into the collar of his wherhide jacket. Of all the days to draw sweep, he had to pick the coldest and windiest. R'meri's eyes watered and he shivered. He wished he had worn a hat under his helmet, or at least goggles. As much as he and his classmates sneered at them, the big eye pieces saved a rider from a good bit of misery.

R'meri crouched lower against Nemath, grateful for the warmth that emanated from the dragon's brown hide. "How long has it been?" he shouted, his voice barely reaching his ears before the wind whipped it away.

_Close to two hours,_ the brown replied.

R'meri groaned. "It can't be! Shards! We're just at the bottom of the Keroon loop. That's not even half way done!"

Nemath gave something like a mental shrug. _True, but we've also been tacking through crosswinds for most of the way._

Chagrined, R'meri pulled his wool scarf up over his nose, ducking his head. "Oh." He looked over Nemath's side at the ground far below. The treetops tossed wildly, a mass of waving green boughs. His ears were filled with the rush of wind and thrashing branches. "Maybe we should cut it short and head back to the Weyr. It's crazy out here."

_You don't think I'm strong enough?_ asked Nemath, hurt.

"Of course not!" The brown dragon's wingbeats were sure and steady despite the buffeting wind. R'meri's heart swelled with pride at his mettle. "You're the strongest, fastest brown in all of Benden! I'm just freezing, and this is taking too long."

_You're cold? _Nemath asked with concern.

"A little," admitted R'meri. "And there's never really anything that happens out here anyhow."

_You never know, _said the brown reprovingly. _But we can go back, if you really want._

R'meri paused, seriously tempted to agree. Thoughts of a hot mug of klah floated through his mind. He imagined sitting on the hearth in the kitchens, tucking into a plate of steaming tubers. His mouth watered, but he swallowed hard, remembering his Wingleader's admonishments.

"_There is no excuse for failure to complete your assignments. If you can't handle the responsibility of these simple tasks, how can you possibly handle the duty to protect Pern from Thread? Fighting Fall is no simple child's play."_

R'meri sighed and pulled his helmet down over his ears. "I'll be fine," he muttered resignedly. "Don't worry. We can go on longer. I guess we should just finish it up." He winced, thinking of the frigid flight ahead of him. How long would his resolve last before he headed back to the Weyr, his tail between his legs? Hopefully long enough. He adjusted his grip on his riding straps and settled in for a long ride.

They rode for what seemed like hours to R'meri. He tried to keep his attention on the sweep and watch for anything out of the ordinary, but nothing could distract him from the cold as his extremities slowly went numb. He hated being cold. He would rather die of heatstroke than suffer frostbite. Low temperatures just were something he couldn't handle, and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Well, for the most part.

His classmates teased him to no end whenever he dressed to go outside in the winter, layering on almost every piece of clothing he owned. He had also refused to jump into the lake at first frost, a sort of traditional weyrling initiation that every male dragonrider underwent. A tradition that R'meri's class had started. His friends never let him forget it, the iron R'meri's one weakness. It wasn't cowardice, he reasoned, just common sense. No one but a complete idiot would dive into the freezing water. But the memory stung anyways.

A whiff of smoke caught R'meri's attention and he jerked his mind to the present, all thoughts of his frozen limbs forgotten.

"What was that?" he shouted.

_What was what?_ Nemath curved his head around to regard his rider with one jeweled eye. _Did you see something?_

"No, I thought smelled smoke. Did you notice anything?" asked R'meri.

_I can't really smell right now,_ admitted Nemath. _My nose is numb._

"Slow up a bit, will you?" The wind hit his chest like a hammer as Nemath obliged, holding his wings rigid to decrease their acceleration. R'meri straightened up and scanned his surroundings. There was nothing around them but trees. He could barely make out the Igen plain on the horizon. "That's funny. I could have sworn I smelled something."

_Maybe it was nothing._

"There!" cried R'meri. "To the south!"

Nemath swiveled his head in the direction his rider pointed. A faint column of smoke rose from the trees, the wind rendering it near invisible.

"Do you see that?" R'meri was almost standing in his riding straps, craning his neck to keep the smoke in his vision. His eyes watered in the cold air and he blinked hard, hoping it wasn't obscuring his eyesight. Surely it wasn't his imagination.

_Yes, I see it_, said Nemath.

"Should we go check what it is?" asked R'meri eagerly. The prospect of something exciting happening on his sweep helped him reconcile his objections to the cold.

The dragon paused before replying, _Maybe we should contact the Weyr first._

"Oh, right." R'meri sat back down, berating himself silently for the slip. What was he thinking, charging off into an unknown situation without reporting anything beforehand?

_No need to scold yourself,_ said Nemath, amused. _I remembered for you._

R'meri smiled and rubbed the dragon's neck. "Thanks, Nemath."

_You will be the greatest rider in all of Pern_, he said with complete confidence.

The brownrider chuckled wryly. "Not if I keep acting like a ninny."

_Myrnoth says two are coming,_ said Nemath, his wings beating hard to keep them from drifting in the wind.

"You sent them coordinates?" asked R'meri.

_Yes_, Nemath replied. He pointed his nose upwards._ They are here. G'lan, rider of blue Lemoth, and N'hal of green Rinth._

Two dragons burst into the air above them, majestic wings flung wide, their jeweled hides glowing in the sunlight. R'meri's heart thumped in awe as they soared down to their level. Even after Impressing his own brown and going through weyrling training, the sight of dragons never failed to amaze him. He had always dreamed of being a dragonrider as a young boy. The small figures of the riders atop their dragons saluted and R'meri waved back, pointing towards the smoky column.

_Lemoth's rider sees it. He says we should get closer,_ said Nemath.

R'meri nodded, recognizing the other rider's seniority from the size of his sapphire beast. Nemath's wings let up their fight to keep their position and let the wind carry him to the spot. They hovered there and R'meri leaned as far over as he dared to get a look. The smoke had looked faint from the side, but from straight overhead, it obscured any vision of the trees below. The diminutive figure mounted on the blue dragon motioned that they get lower as Lemoth folded his wings, dropping in altitude.

_They are looking for a place to land,_ said Nemath as the green dragon followed suit.

"In the trees?" asked R'meri worriedly. He tried to keep the quiver of fear from his voice. They had never attempted a maneuver that difficult.

_We will be fine,_ Nemath assured him._ I can do it._

R'meri paused, grappling between his own fears and the complete trust he had for his dragon. "Okay." He shut his eyes and tightened his grip on his straps to ready himself. His pulse quickened as Nemath went after the others, the dragon folding his wings to dive down towards the trees.

Once on the ground, R'meri swung down from his harness shakily, leaning against the brown dragon's side as he caught his breath. His knees were still weak, but he felt a proud smile spreading across his face. Nemath hadn't faltered once, following the older dragons' lead perfectly. Albeit there was a bobble here and there as they descended, but it was overall an impressive display for newly graduated weyrlings.

The two other riders were already dismounted and surveying the scene before them when R'meri turned, removing his helmet. They nodded to him, expressions inscrutable. R'meri could vaguely recognize them from around the Weyr. He saluted and memorized their faces.

"Well spotted, brownrider," said the shorter and stockier of the two—the bluerider from his shoulder knots. "I could barely see the smoke until we were right on top of it."

R'meri dipped his head in acknowledgement, pride swelling in his chest. He smiled, but when he turned his attention to the smoke filled clearing, his happy expression slid away and he felt himself deflating with uncertainty. The wind, blowing mainly above the tree canopy, hadn't been able to clear away most of the smoke. R'meri had to squint before he could make out what exactly he was seeing.

The source of the smoke was the remains of a wagon turned on its side. A charred black frame was all that was left, iron wheel rims sticking up in the air. A few dying flames licked at its base where embers still glowed red in the ashes. R'meri held his scarf over his nose and mouth as a breeze blew an acrid scent towards him on a puff of dust. Smaller figures lay scattered around the clearing, some draped across the wagon itself. They were odd, lumpy shapes in contorted positions. With a gulp, R'meri realized that they were bodies.

"What happened here?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Bandits." The lean greenrider, N'hal, straightened up from where he had been kneeling beside a nearby corpse. His knots labeled him as a healer.

"This one's wounds were blade-inflicted: spears, swords," said N'hal, indicating the bloody gashes. R'meri quickly looked away. "They must have been a merchants' train," the greenrider continued. He went to another still form and checked for breath or a heartbeat. "Bandits attacked, stole the goods and burned the wagons." N'hal gently closed the dead man's staring eyes. "Must have been pretty recently. They're not long dead."

R'meri took a shuddering breath to clear the fog that had suddenly filled his head, the acrid air stinging his throat. A cloying, faintly familiar scent underlay the thick smoke. He clapped a trembling hand to his mouth as he realized what it was. It was the smell of burning flesh. Before he could stop himself, his eyes flicked to the overturned wagon and the bodies lying in the ash. R'meri turned away with a groan. He was going to be sick. He leaned his head on Nemath's broad flank, breathing in his warm, spicy scent. The comforting smell settled his fluttering stomach and the roaring sound in his ears faded. Nemath rumbled in concern and nudged his rider gently.

"Will you be all right?" asked G'lan. His voice was soft as he looked into the younger rider's ashen face.

R'meri nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth.

"You've done well." G'lan squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and stepped into the clearing.

R'meri followed numbly, careful not to breathe through his nose. He pressed one end of his scarf over his mouth in an attempt to filter out the smoke. It was so quiet. The only sounds in the clearing were the three dragonriders' footsteps, muffled in the cold air. R'meri's breathing sounded harsh in his ears, keeping beat to his thudding heart. The smoke swirled around him, dust and ash rising where he stepped. He was grateful for the thick tendrils that obscured his vision. He had seen enough already. The shapes of N'hal and G'lan were ahead of him, stooping over each body to check for survivors. R'meri went past them, careful to avoid the burnt wagon with the smoldering figures draped over its frame.

_N'hal said they were bandits,_ he thought, trying to forget the image. _Humans. Shards, Nemath! Pernese did this._

_I know, love,_ said Nemath gently. _I'm sorry._

_Be grateful you're dragonkind,_ said R'meri bitterly. _We humans are twisted, evil._

_You're not,_ replied Nemath. _And I will always be with you._

A small smile tugged at R'meri's lips at the brown's response. He could imagine the dragon's bass rumble and was suddenly comforted, glad of his great fortune to be so inexplicably linked with such a being. He sighed and, gagging on ash, turned.

A soft voice cried out hoarsely and R'meri spun, his nerves electrified. He scanned the clearing, this time cursing the thick smoke, the hairs at his neck rising in apprehension. Had he heard right? Or was it just the wind playing tricks in the trees? A slight movement in the corner of his vision caught his eye. There, at the edge of the clearing. One of the crumpled forms stirred.

"G'lan! N'hal! I think there's someone here!" R'meri shouted.

He ran over, boots thudding in the dust, and fell to his knees beside the body. There were two: a man slumped over, and beneath his outstretched arms, was it a girl? The girl moved fretfully, one thin arm flung over her face. She shivered, trembling violently.

N'hal knelt beside them, first checking the man's vitals. After a short moment he shook his head. R'meri caught a flash of intense grief in the healer's eyes as he pulled the dead man gently away from the girl's twisted body. She cried out in fear as she was exposed, raising quivering hands to defend herself.

"It's okay," R'meri choked out, reaching out his hand, but unsure if he should touch her. "Don't worry. We're dragonriders. We're here to help you." He winced as he was slapped weakly; the girl's ice cold hands were stained crimson. Her clothes were crusted with blood. R'meri looked worriedly to N'hal.

"It's not hers. The blood," the greenrider said, as if reading the young man's thoughts. "She doesn't have any serious external injuries." His nimble fingers probed her neck and back. "It doesn't look like she's injured her spine, either. I think she can be moved."

"Will she be okay?" asked G'lan. His eyes flickered from the healer to the girl and back. "Will she live?"

N'hal nodded tautly. "If we get her back to the Weyr in time. She's hypothermic."

"Can she go _between_?"

"We'll have to risk it. Hopefully the cold _between_ won't tip her over the edge." N'hal took off his wherhide jacket. "We need to get her out of these wet clothes and warm her up a little."

The girl's weak protests had subsided and her head slumped to the side, her breaths slowing. R'meri surrendered his jacket as N'hal undressed her gently. "I can take her," he offered.

"Are you sure?" asked G'lan with concern. "She needs to be handled with the utmost care."

"He can go," said N'hal. "We should stay here and check everything for other survivors."

The bluerider yielded with a nod, but a worried frown still furrowed his brow.

N'hal bundled the girl up in the jackets and placed her in R'meri's arms. "Hold her close; she'll draw heat from your body. Fly her back to the Weyr and get Faire. She'll take care of her. Make sure to be gentle, but go quickly."

"Farewell, R'meri," said G'lan.

The brownrider dipped his head and headed back to the dragons, shivering as the cold went through his sweat dampened shirt. The girl was so limp against him, and cold. He could feel the chill from her body leaching through his skin. Her chest barely moved with breath and she had stopped shivering.

Nemath was waiting for him at the edge of the clearing, his eyes whirling anxiously. _Is she alive?_ he asked.

R'meri nodded. "We need to get to the Weyr, fast." He climbed into his harness, shoving his helmet back onto his head and looping the straps loosely around him with his free hand. He hoped it would hold.

_I won't let you fall_, Nemath promised.

_I know you won't_, R'meri replied. "It's going to be okay," he said aloud, half to the girl, but mostly to reassure himself. "We're taking you to a safe place."

Nemath spread his wings and leaped into the air. Trees waved wildly around them as they surged upwards. R'meri held the girl closer, drawing up the familiar image of Benden Weyr in his mind. He barely had enough time to tighten his grip on the riding straps before they winked _between._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

Teri woke slowly, her mind rising through a drug induced stupor to comprehend the bits of sensations that filtered into her warm cocoon. Gauzy bandages were wrapped securely around her head, well padded on her left temple. She wore a shift of soft linen and a cushiony mattress gave way beneath her. The warm form of Wren was curled against the curve of her waist. Furs lay heavily over her, a comforting weight keeping her lying flat. They were pulled tight across her body and tucked in at the edges. One foot idly traced the seam where blankets went under the side of the mattress, meeting a smooth wall. She wiggled her toes against the crack and the blanket loosened.

She remembered her mother used to tuck her in when she was a child, exactly like how she was now, except she hadn't been tall enough to touch the foot of the bed with her toes. Her mother had done this every night, squeezing Teri's feet through the blankets and kissing her on the nose. Teri remembered it had always tickled and how she had complained good naturedly. And her mother always had smiled back.

The blanket gave way beneath her toes and her foot flopped out over the side, cool air moving up into her warm nest. Wren stirred with a sleepy chirrup. Teri drew her leg in and turned on her side with a sigh, stroking the fire lizard's smooth hide.

She remembered her mother's eyes and how lovingly they looked at her. The neighbors had often commented on how mother and daughter had the same eyes, brown and shaped like almonds. Teri was always glad when the other holders and women mentioned it. Her mother had had the most beautiful eyes. But that's where the likeness ended. Every other feature of Teri's favored her father. From her straight, dark hair to her blunt chin, she was almost an exact mirror image of her father. She had his height, or lack of it, and thin frame, although his had been wiry with muscle.

And then there was Aren, who didn't look like anyone. He was tall, well built, with curly brown hair and grey eyes. Their mother had said he looked like her Bitran father, especially his hair.

Teri's fingers curled unconsciously around the furs. She had loved to play with her older brother's hair when she was little, pulling on strands and letting them go to watch them bounce back like springs. And although Aren was five Turns older, he put up with her all through childhood. He was the mischievous Teri's self appointed guardian, letting her lead him through all of her adventures and misdeeds, but keeping her away from real danger. Teri remembered how she pouted whenever she had to stay home while Aren played with the other Hold boys his age. Her mother often told her that she couldn't have him all to herself. He needed friends too.

_Aren._ Teri's forehead wrinkled in a frown and her hand rose to the flower at the base of her throat. There was something she had to remember about Aren. Did she have to tell him something? She wondered whether she should try to remember, or just go back to sleep. Obviously she had forgotten, and she was so comfortable. It still nagged at her in the back of her mind, but she pushed it away, content to follow the slow meandering of her thoughts. She was warm and relaxed and reluctant to surface from her dreamy state.

The air changed slightly and there was the soft sound of a door shutting from across the room.

_So I'm not in my room then_, she thought dreamily. _This place is too big._ She felt like she ought to be curious, but she was just too comfortable to think. Footsteps came around to the side of her bed, boot heels clicking on stone. Wren raised his head against her hand at the person's approach, then lowered it without remark.

_That must be Aren._ "Hello," she murmured, stretching against the heavy blankets.

"Well hello," said a warm but unfamiliar tenor voice in surprise. "I didn't think you would be awake."

Teri's eyes half opened and she blinked away the sticky feeling of sleep. "You're not Aren," she said, turning her head. Any other time she would have leapt in fear and shock, but now she was just mildly curious. Wren must have known him. The firelizard would have attacked otherwise.

"No, I'm not." An edge of suppressed emotion underlay the man's tone but Teri couldn't tell what it was. The thought drifted away before she could focus on it.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"A healer," said the voice. "My name's N'hal."

"Where's Aren?" she asked, mid yawn. "I've forgotten what I need to tell him."

"Who's Aren?" asked N'hal curiously.

"My brother," Teri mumbled. "Do you know where he is?"

The healer was silent for a moment and Teri felt herself drifting back to sleep. "I don't know," he answered softly.

"Do you know where I am?" Teri asked sluggishly, turning her face towards the source of the voice.

"Yes," replied N'hal. "You're in the infirmary at Benden Weyr."

Teri was slightly confused as her mind slowly caught up to what was going on. _Benden?_ Then it struck her full force and she stiffened, the memories flooding over her like the breaking of a dam.

Benden, fostering. The caravan. Aren.

_It was still early in the morning. The sun had yet to rise, or if it had already, no sunbeams warmed the frigid air. They were packing up the camp, readying for the long day on the road. Teri shivered and blinked owlishly, standing at the edge of the preparation. Wren huddled against her neck and creeled hungrily. Her mouth felt dry and her throat burned. She swallowed and wished for a hot mug of klah. And something to feed Wren. She reached up to scratch his eye ridge, clutching her blanket tight around her. Davner had lent it to her the previous evening. She hadn't had the foresight to pack anything._

"_No, you keep it," he had said when she made to return it earlier that morning, pushing it into her hands. "You need it more than I do. I can get it back at Benden."_

_Benden. Davner's words echoed mockingly in Teri's mind. He spoke so assuredly, so certain, yet she didn't know at all what her fate was to be. She bit her lip and thought of Aren. What had he decided? Would he send her home, or let her stay with the caravan? Where was he? He hadn't approached her since she had wakened. Why? Had he even made a decision yet? Was he trying to avoid her? No. She held her pendant tightly. He was too good to do that. She stood there, buried in thought as the sounds of the caravan's activity echoed in her ears._

_Wren fidgeted on her shoulder and tensed warily. His tail snaked around her neck tightly and he warbled in agitation._

"_Oh stop it," Teri snapped, attempting to loosen his chokehold. "I'll feed you soon enough."_

_The fire lizard replied by rising to his haunches and shrieking. A wing brushed Teri's head as he launched into the air._

"_Crazy fire lizard," she muttered, rubbing her shoulder where Wren's claws had bit through her shirt. She shook her head and sighed impatiently. Why did Aren have to disappear when she needed him most?_

_The first sounds she heard of the attack were a sharp cry and something crumpling to the ground. It didn't register immediately in her buzzing mind, busy as she was with worrying over her fate. The sounds of the caravan stilled and for a moment it seemed as if everyone else struggled with comprehension as much as she._

"_Bandits!" The cry seemed to break the moment of confusion, throwing everyone into action._

_Except for Teri. She froze as shouts filled the air. Footsteps rushed past and she heard the hiss of steel being drawn. She whipped her head around, but there was nothing but darkness and chaos of noise around her. Fear filled her, a roaring sound in her ears almost drowning out the awful cries. Her first instinct was to run, but her legs wouldn't obey her frantic mind._

_There was a sound of rushing air and then agonized screams. Teri recognized the acrid scent of flamethrowers and her stomach leapt into her throat. The smell of smoke filled the air. Steel rang around her, zipping through the air and slicing through flesh. The cries were horrible, hardly human. Teri didn't realize she was screaming until she was dizzy with lack of air, the blanket slipping from her hands. Before she could take a breath, something struck her in the head and she stumbled._

_Then Aren was there, shouting, but she couldn't understand what he said. Her mind reeled with pain and shock. His hands caught her and he whirled around, shielding her from whatever had hit her. His chest heaved against her back and she felt his muscles tensing as if to ward off a blow. Then Aren gasped sharply and fell to his knees, bearing her down with him. His grasp slackened and Teri fell roughly to the ground, into a pool of warm blood. The last thing she knew before she flickered out of consciousness was Aren's body slumped across her, limp and unmoving._

Teri swayed with the weight of her recovered memory. She didn't remember sitting up, nor when Wren had appeared on her shoulder, creeling, his wings half spread. She felt her chest constricting with the effort it took to breathe, closing in on the nothingness inside. She vaguely heard a voice raised in concern, but her attention was elsewhere.

_Where's Aren?_ She shut her eyes and held her head in her hands, bandages rumpling against her palms. Her teeth rattled as she shook. Unbidden, the memory of his body stiffening in agony to the sickening sound of steel sliding into flesh came to her mind. _No! He's not! He can't be dead!_ She remembered the slick feeling of blood on her skin and retched.

Then there were hands, at her head, holding a basin beneath her chin although there wasn't much to bring up. Teri gripped the cool porcelain rim as she heaved. Weight made the mattress dip as someone knelt behind her, bracing her with strong arms. She dimly heard Wren shriek savagely and a gasp of pain from whoever was holding her, then Wren vacated, his cries sounding from the foot of the bed.

All her strength was spent after she finished. She leaned against a wherhide covered shoulder, quivering. She felt like she was just going to collapse in on herself. The healer moved nimbly down from behind her and lowered her gently back into the blankets.

"I'll be back," he whispered, his footsteps padding quickly away. Teri let her head fall back on the soft pillow, her mind spinning. She realized she was sobbing, silent heaves that wracked her body.

The footsteps returned and fingers dipped under her neck, supporting her head. Another hand held a cup to her mouth.

"No," Teri moaned, turning her head to the side. Cool liquid splashed onto her chin and the bitter taste of fellis filled her mouth.

"It's just water," said N'hal. "To rinse your mouth."

Teri couldn't get enough air to support her voice again so she just nodded. The cup tilted and she drank obediently. When she finished, the healer's feet turned on the floor as if to leave.

"No, please stay," she rasped, reaching her hand out into space.

The footsteps paused, and after a short moment returned to her bedside. "Okay."

Teri dropped her arm, her muscles aching from exertion. "Can—can you tell me how I got here?"

"On dragonback. The sweeprider spotted the smoke from your wagons and—he found you and brought you here." N'hal spoke smoothly and steadily and Teri could barely catch the quaver of emotion in his voice. She recognized his tone, the one healers used when they were hiding bad news.

Teri swallowed and took a shuddering breath. "Was there anyone else alive?" Her voice caught and she faltered. "Did they find a man, about twenty Turns? He is tall, has curly hair." N'hal was silent and Teri's heart thudded in her ears.

_Please, please_, she pleaded silently. _Let him be alive._

"You were the only survivor," said N'hal in a pained voice.

Teri's eyes squeezed shut and she felt her insides crumbling. "Did they find him?" Her voice quaked; it was almost a wail. She heard a long sigh and boots scuffing the floor.

"Yes. I was there, but, I'm sorry. Everyone was dead."

The words were like a physical blow. Teri felt like the bottom of her lungs had dropped out into her stomach and she couldn't breathe. The healer's voice murmured something, but she didn't hear.

"Just go." The words escaped her tight throat in a choked whisper. She curled in on herself as a wave of grief crashed over her, anguished cries battering in her chest.

---

N'hal looked back at the closed door to the infirmary and sighed, rubbing his face. His fingers came away crimson and with a wince, he remembered the fire lizard's sharp claws. The little bronze must have arrived sometime during the night. He obviously belonged to the mysterious girl, so no one made a comment. His zealous attempts to protect her proved that point. N'hal bent over a basin of water and inspected the marks running across his cheek. They just barely missed his eye. If he hadn't flinched at the right time…N'hal shivered at the thought. The cuts didn't look too deep, but they bled freely. He sighed again; he didn't have enough time to patch himself up properly before he had to leave on Search.

_Good thing you spoke to him when you did, Rinth, or I would be torn up much more than I am now,_ he thought ruefully.

_I should have spoken sooner. You're hurt._ The green dragon poked her wedge shaped head anxiously into the healers' bay.

N'hal rinsed his hands in the basin, watching the water tint red. _Just a scratch, love. I've handled worse._ He dried his hands on his pants and took a cloth off the shelf.

As he gingerly cleaned his scratches, his mind went back to the girl in the infirmary. He hadn't expected her to be so coherent, or even awake. She had recovered rapidly from the hypothermia, and she didn't appear to have many serious complications from her head injury. Except perhaps one. The girl's steady gaze had unnerved him, until he realized that she was staring at the empty space to the right of his head. She was blind. N'hal didn't know if it had been from her head injury, but from the lack of reaction he guessed that she had lost her sight before the incident.

The memory of the burned clearing from the day before rose to the forefront of his thoughts. N'hal closed his eyes and exhaled slowly as images of the dead men flashed in his vision. He remembered the man she had described, remembered rolling his body over and staring into his glazed eyes, the cold, clammy feel of his skin. N'hal tilted his head back and looked up at the stone ceiling. It all made him feel so helpless. Suddenly he had the urge to kick something.

_Why like this, Rinth?_ he asked. _Why does it have to happen like this?_

The green dragon rumbled lovingly. _I don't know, love._

_Why do these things have to happen? Why can't we stop them before people get hurt?_ he cried in frustration.

_You can't save everyone_, said Rinth gently.

_Why not?_ N'hal gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. He remembered the look in the girl's eyes as it slowly dawned on her. He had watched as her hope had been shattered, leaving only anguish. The cuts on his face stung and he realized his cheeks were wet with tears.

_Lemoth is calling,_ said Rinth. _We're late._

N'hal nodded and dried his eyes, careful to avoid the scratches. _I'm ready._ He swiftly dumped the basin and tossed the rag into the waste, tugging on his gloves. He shook his head as he swung himself to Rinth's neck and buckled on his helmet. He couldn't afford to grieve over everyone he couldn't save. But then, that was the worst part.

_I just wish I could do more_, said N'hal resignedly. _For the girl, at least._

_You don't have to_, Rinth replied and turned to face the open sky above the Weyr bowl. _She's strong. Which is why she'll make a good candidate._

N'hal blinked. _What?_ he asked blankly.

The green dragon spread her wings and launched into the air, her wings working to get free of gravity. For the first time in a long while, N'hal was unprepared for the takeoff and his head snapped back at the jolt.

_What are you talking about?_ He neck throbbed painfully but he ignored it, trying to comprehend what his dragon just said. _Rinth, what do you mean, 'candidate'?_

_For the Hatching, _Rinth replied. She winged her way up to where the blue shape of Lemoth waited beside the Eye Rock, the Weyr dropping away beneath them. _She'll have to stand for sure. _

_You mean she'll Impress?_ The cold air stung N'hal's face and he pulled his helmet down over his ears. _But—shards! Rinth, that's impossible. She's blind._

_Why does that affect whether she Impresses or not?_ the green asked, unfazed.

_I don't know,_ replied N'hal, unsure,_ but she just can't._

_I'm never wrong,_ said Rinth, petulant. _If I say she'll Impress, she will._

N'hal opened his mouth, but the words he wanted to say had fled his mind. _There—you, you can't be a dragonrider if you're blind, Rinth. It just doesn't work. You can't fight Thread if you can't see it. We can't, she can't be a candidate._

_She's going to Impress,_ said Rinth firmly. _She'll have to stand or one of those hatchlings will die without her soulmate._

N'hal frowned and bit his lip. He couldn't answer to that. The death of a dragon was nothing to argue about. But how could Rinth be so sure? Not for the first time, he wondered if he could ever totally understand dragons, even his own soulmate. How did they know when an ordinary person would or wouldn't Impress? How did a newly hatched dragon know exactly who was her soulmate? He remembered Rinth's own hatching, his last chance to stand as a candidate on the hot sands. He remembered the joy of Impression, falling to his knees before the glowing green with tears falling down his face.

"Ready?" asked G'lan, his husky shout breaking N'hal's reverie.

N'hal nodded and tried to calm his racing thoughts. "Let's go." He'd have to think everything over later.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

Teri's feet slid forwards haltingly beside the sure footsteps of Faire at her elbow. The healer's arms were around her shoulders, guiding her gently. Teri lowered her head as tears flooded her eyes, hating herself for being so weak and for the fact that she hated being weak.

_I am weak, and there's no way to change that_, she thought bitterly. It had been her selfish pride, her inability to face the facts and live with them, that had caused everything in the first place, when she had so recklessly stowed away in the caravan. She had thought that she had nothing to lose, yet everything she had done had only come out for the worst. She was still going to end up alone in Keroon, but now Aren was dead.

_Aren's dead_. Her mind was still reeling over that one thought, spinning between despair, disbelief, and guilt. If it hadn't been for her, Aren would be happily living his own life in a new Hold. He wouldn't have had to worry about his blind little sister, or try to protect her. He had taken the blow that was meant for her, shielding her body with his own. She should have died during the attack, not him. But he was gone and it was all her fault.

_Aren, I'm so sorry._ She choked back a soft sob and braced herself against her overwhelming grief. Aren had always been her support, giving rib cracking hugs, drying tears, and most of all, sacrificing time to spend with her. Without him, her life was empty. She didn't know if she could cope. She didn't know if she wanted to cope.

Teri's knees bumped into the bed and she stopped. She tore her thoughts away from Aren and focused on getting into bed, trying to ignore the weight of the pendant swinging from her neck. It was just too painful to think about him. The sheets were cool and smooth under her fingers as she felt her way onto the mattress. Faire helped her into position and her hands busied themselves lifting blankets and tucking in furs. Teri sat back quietly, hot tears of shame dripping onto her lap. She truly was helpless. Shells, she couldn't even go to the necessary without constant supervision.

Faire's hands moved up to Teri's head, checking the dressing. The healer was studiously quiet and Teri was grateful. Kind inquiries or sympathetic condolences would probably send her over the edge. She wanted to retain some of her dignity.

"How's your head?" Faire asked, her fingers pushing back Teri's eyelids gently. "Does it hurt, do you get dizzy?"

"No. I'm fine," Teri whispered. She missed Wren's comforting warmth. The fire lizard was her only companion in a place full of strangers.

She remembered the first time she had held his egg. The hard shell's warmth against her palms had surprised her. She remembered her panic when the telltale cracks of his hatching filled the air, and Aren was nowhere to be found. She remembered impression, the slick feeling of raw meat in her hands, Wren's teeth occasionally nicking her fingertips in his hunger. She remembered tracing his sleeping form over and over, marveling at the smoothness of his hide, his delicate wings. Wren was the greatest gift she had ever received.

"You're recovering well," said the healer as she finished her examination, pulling Teri from her daze. "In a day or so, you'll be able—you won't have to stay in bed."

Teri nodded. "What's going to happen to me then?" she asked softly. She thought she knew, but hoped she was wrong. She would most likely be sent back to Keroon after she was well enough. If Benden Hold would reject a helpless blind girl, surely the Weyr would be no different.

Faire paused for a moment and the silence stretched awkwardly. "Don't worry about it," she said finally, attempting a positive tone. "Everything will come out for the best."

Teri's heart sank into her stomach, but she forced a smile anyways, nodding again. "Okay." Faire's fingers touched Teri's arm briefly, then her footsteps retreated, leaving Teri to wonder hopelessly. _The best for whom?_

---

N'hal and Rinth burst into the warm air above the Weyr, bright sunlight blinding him momentarily after the dark cold of _between._ The watch dragon on the heights bugled a greeting, a brown smudge against the grey of the stone. Everywhere, dragons and their riders were stretching wings and legs to stave off fidgety restlessness from the lapse in Threadfall. The young candidate behind him slackened his grip around his waist slightly and N'hal could feel him gasping for breath against his back.

"Are you all right?" he called.

"Yeah, I'm okay," said the boy, his voice breaking on the last phrase.

"We're heading down into the Weyr now," said N'hal. Rinth wheeled around in descent into the Weyrbowl and the candidate's arms tightened convulsively.

_Gently, Rinth. Our candidate isn't used to flying_, N'hal admonished, wincing.

_Is that my fault?_ the green dragon replied tartly. _If the boy wants to be a dragonrider, he'd better get used to flight fast._

N'hal sighed and shook his head, recognizing the irritated tone. _Well, at least this is our last Search for this clutch. We'll be sticking around the Weyr for a little while, until after you rise._

Rinth sniffed delicately and backwinged onto the floor of the bowl, throwing up a cloud of dust. N'hal sighed again, suddenly remembering the girl in the infirmary. He had been putting off thinking about her while he was busy on Search. He didn't know what to do about her conundrum. He should probably report to B'nonin before Rinth's proddiness began to affect him. N'hal helped his shaking candidate dismount and swung down, giving the boy an encouraging smile.

_Where are you off to?_ asked Rinth plaintively.

N'hal turned his smile to his dragon and rested his hand on Rinth's shoulder, her smooth hide warm under his fingers. _I just thought I'd escort our candidate to his room,_ he said._ And I need to ask B'nonin about something._

Rinth folded her wings with a mental sigh and settled into a crouch to wait. _Okay. Don't be long._

_I won't_, N'hal promised. He reached up to scratch her eye ridges and turned to the candidate. The boy was looking around wide-eyed, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He clutched his small canvas sack of belongings to his chest, his face pale.

N'hal squeezed the boy's shoulder reassuringly. "Let's get you to your room."

"N'hal!"

The greenrider stopped in his tracks and looked to see who was calling. R'meri waved from across the bowl, hurrying towards him.

"Hello, N'hal," said R'meri breathlessly after a hurried salute. Then he spotted N'hal's companion and stopped short. "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you busy right now?"

"Just taking Corin to the candidate barracks. We've just brought him from Bitra," said N'hal.

"Oh!" R'meri's face brightened. "Great! Welcome." He shook the shell-shocked Corin's hand. "I'm R'meri, rider of brown Nemath."

"Can we walk and talk? Or did you want something?" inquired N'hal, thinking back on Rinth's irritation. It wouldn't be good to keep her waiting very long.

A blush rose in the young rider's face and he ducked his head. "No, I can come with you. I was just wondering how that girl was doing, the one we found the other day."

"Oh, well she seems to be recovering well, but she is struggling with shock and trauma from the attack," N'hal replied vaguely, uncomfortable as the memories of the girl's grief flooded back. He hated to see people hurt, but this was a wound he couldn't help. And then Rinth had said that she would impress.

_Shards, her situation is getting really complicated._

"What? What do you mean?" R'meri asked, confused.

"What? Did I say something?" It took a moment for N'hal to realize that he had voiced his last thought aloud.

"Yes. You said something about the girl, and her situating getting complicated."

"Oh. Well, it's really nothing," N'hal mumbled. He hated himself immediately for the lie, but he didn't think it was his place to talk about it.

"Right, okay," R'meri's face fell and he turned to go. "I hope it turns out for the best."

"Wait, actually," said N'hal, stopping the younger rider, "I'm going to go see the Weyrleader about it right now, so why don't you come with me?"

R'meri's face brightened. "Okay, sure." He smiled and fell in step with them. "So what's so complicated?"

N'hal sighed. "Well, it's just that Rinth thinks she will impress."

"That's wonderful!" R'meri exclaimed. "Candidate for a hatching. Shells, that's the best thing that could possibly happen!"

"Yes, yes it is," said N'hal half-heartedly. The younger rider's reaction wasn't what he had been expecting. He didn't even think that it was possible for the girl to become a candidate. The whole encounter left him unsettled. It made him realize that he had never taken into account that the girl was a real person, just the fact that she was blind. The thought made him uncomfortable.

The Weyrleader was standing in the corridor outside of the candidates' barracks when the three arrived, speaking with J'den, one of the Wingleaders. Corin's eyes widened even more as he recognized the two men as high ranking dragonriders. N'hal and R'meri saluted and the boy nearly dropped his sack following suit.

"Hello, R'meri, N'hal. Just coming back from Search?" asked J'den with an easy grin.

N'hal nodded curtly, his insides curling with wariness. The tall rider always made him feel uneasy. "This is Corin of Bitra," he said.

J'den turned to the boy and held out his hand. "Greetings to you too. You must be a candidate."

Corin gulped and took the Wingleader's hand. "Well, I've only just been Searched," he said nervously.

"That makes you a candidate," J'den assured him. "Welcome to Benden Weyr."

Corin's face lost some of its sickly pall as he attempted a small smile, staring in wonder up at the bronzerider.

"Yes, welcome," repeated B'nonin with a distant smile. "Feleth relayed me your report, N'hal. Was there a question you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes, actually," said the greenrider, relieved, yet a little unnerved at the accuracy of the Weyrleader's intuition. The older man had an uncanny tendency of guessing the intentions of others.

"Well, we shouldn't keep our candidate waiting on us," said B'nonin. "R'meri, will you take Corin to an empty room and help him settle in?"

The young rider nodded, hiding a look of disappointment, and ushered the equally reluctant Corin into the barracks.

"From Bitra, eh? Is he the only one you've found so far?" asked J'den as soon as they were out of earshot.

N'hal shook his head. "Actually, that was my question. Rinth Searched out another possible candidate, a girl. She was found a few leagues south of Benden Hold by one of the sweepriders a few days ago."

"You mean the one with the merchant group that had been attacked by bandits?" asked J'den. "We'll have to do something about all of these attacks. We don't need more complaints from worried holders."

"We will," B'nonin assured the other bronzerider. "What did you want to ask about her, N'hal?"

"Well," N'hal hesitated, unsure of what to say, "she's blind, but Rinth still thinks she should stand as a candidate."

"That's ridiculous," said J'den dismissively. "No dragon would choose a blind girl. She would never be able to impress anyways."

"Rinth doesn't think so," N'hal objected, clamping down on the irritation that was bubbling up. The last thing he needed was to have his emotions skewed by his proddy dragon. He turned his attention to the pensive Weyrleader. "She's convinced that somehow this girl will impress."

B'nonin's head was tilted to one side and his fingers tapped his lip idly. It was an odd gesture, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes went unfocused for a moment as he spoke mentally with his dragon.

"Have you considered the possibility that your Rinth could be mistaken? I mean, Search dragons are wrong all the time. And Rinth is…close to rising, isn't she?" The corners of the Wingleader's mouth twitched in a barely concealed smile.

N'hal stiffened and felt a hot blush coloring his face. "She was adamant, and no amount of proddiness would affect that. If Rinth says the girl will impress, then she probably will."

"How can you assume that? No one knows for certain who will and won't impress. Search dragons are supposed to find suitable candidates for impression. A blind girl is hardly suitable," J'den sneered.

"Feleth assures me of Rinth's certainty. She says the girl is strong," said B'nonin slowly.

"Does that make her a good candidate? Is she even physically able to impress?" asked J'den in disbelief.

The Weyrleader shrugged. "How are we to know what makes a person physically able to impress? You know impression does not depend on physical ability. You said yourself that no one knows for certain who will and won't impress, but Search dragons do have a general idea."

The charming smile slid away from J'den's tanned face, his expression bordering on something like a sulk. It took all of N'hal's self-control to keep from smirking childishly. _Hah._

"No one knows how impression works, so we have to keep the possibility open," B'nonin continued.

"So, if the girl could impress, what would happen if she did?" J'den pressed. "We can't very well have a blind dragonrider. She would be a danger to everyone, including herself. You can't fight Thread if you can't see it."

N'hal cringed to hear his own words thrown back at him. Despite his dislike for the other man, N'hal knew he was right. He knew he was defending the girl only because he was defending his dragon. Only just a day ago he had argued with Rinth against the girl's candidacy. He had taken the girl's side because J'den had provoked him.

_Maybe Rinth is wrong. Her emotions could be playing with her reasoning_, he thought. _She could be affecting me too._ It felt a betrayal to say it, but how could she suggest the impossible? A blind rider wouldn't be able to fly without constant supervision. And going _between_ would be absolutely out of the question, much less fighting Fall. She wouldn't even be able to deliver firestone sacks. If the girl impressed, it would be an unfortunate waste of a dragon. It was the truth, if a hard one, but N'hal couldn't reconcile it with his feelings.

"Okay, so the girl may be able to impress, but she can't be allowed to," said J'den. "What can a dragon do with a blind rider? They would be absolutely useless."

"The girl wouldn't be as useless as you think," said B'nonin. "A rider doesn't make a dragon, nor is the dragon all a rider's worth."

The Wingleader shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "But a rider needs to contribute something. Everything that dragonriders do requires vision. It's impossible otherwise. We can't take the chance of letting her be a candidate for the Hatching."

"But what if she's meant to impress? If she's not there, one of the hatchlings will suicide," said B'nonin concernedly.

"Either way, that's a dragon wasted," J'den retorted. "A hatchling dying before impression is almost better than a dragon living but never being able to fly. What's a dragon if it can't fight Thread?"

"What about queens?" B'nonin murmured. "They are essential to a Weyr and they don't fight."

"But their riders do," N'hal said softly. _Dragonmen must fly when Thread is in the sky_. He had heard those words for as long as he could remember. He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "J'den is right. It doesn't matter if the girl's strong or not. She can't be a candidate because she's not physically capable to be a good rider. It's for the good of the Weyr." Something inside him still felt wrong about the whole thing, but there was no perfect solution to the problem.

_This is the better choice_, he thought. _She's just one girl. At least she won't know what she's being denied._

B'nonin's brow was furrowed in troubled thought. "I guess you're right," he said after a short moment, exhaling softly. "The girl won't stand as a candidate. We'll find out where she's from and send her home when she recovers."

J'den smiled triumphantly and N'hal began to have misgivings about to what they had just agreed. He nodded to the two men in salute and took his leave, trying to ignore the feeling that he was betraying both Rinth and the girl. It was for the best, wasn't it? He shook his head and headed back to the bowl, hoping J'den really was right.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

_Thread is falling over the Benden coast!_

The great queen rose to her haunches on the Hatching Grounds and gave a full throated bugle, broadcasting the news mentally to every dragon and rider. The cry echoed through the Weyr, followed by a flurry of preparation.

R'meri leaped up from his half-eaten breakfast, gulping down the last of his _klah_ and swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. All around him, dragonriders were doing the same, pushing away bowls of cereal and pulling on wherhide jackets. R'meri dodged other weyrfolk as he sprinted to his weyr. His stomach sloshed uncomfortably with every step, but he didn't care. They were actually going to fight Thread! Everyone was jumpy from inactivity after the unusual cold stretch that had stopped Threadfall. The reappearance of the silvery menace was a welcome output for all their pent up energy.

R'meri grabbed helmet, gloves, and harness from their pegs on the wall. His weyrmate had already come and gone, from the looks of the clutter scattered around, as if a whirlwind had gone through the small space. As new riders, R'meri's class had to pair up and share weyrs, but it was better than the cramped weyrling barracks.

"Nemath, Nemath! We're going to fight today!" he shouted.

_I know, I know,_ Nemath replied, his eyes whirling with excitement. _Myrnoth told me too._ He crouched low as R'meri threw the riding harness over him. The rider's hands moved like a blur, each movement of fastening buckles and tightening straps as natural as breathing.

"Shells, I never thought I'd be so glad to see Fall!" he cried.

_Ready?_ Nemath asked. The brown's tail was twitching in anticipation.

"Yeah," said R'meri, swinging up into place. "Let's go."

Nemath shuffled to the entrance to their weyr and made the short descent to the ground. The floor of the Weyr bowl was teeming with activity. Despite everyone's eagerness, they were all too well drilled in the efficient discipline of the Weyr for there to be too much chaos. Nemath and R'meri positioned themselves in formation with the rest of their Wing, the Wingleader relaying them coordinates. A nearby weyrling handed a sack of firestone up to R'meri. He smiled his thanks and strapped it to the side of the harness, the younger boy's eyes following him enviously.

Then, at the Wingleader's signal, the mass of dragons leaped into the sky as one. The rush and roar of so many sweeping wings echoed in R'meri's ears as he followed his wing _between_.

_One…two…three…_ Hot, wet air slapped R'meri in the face and salty air filled his nose as they appeared over the long rocky stretch of beach on the eastern edge of Benden's land. He had to squint in the bright sunlight, but the shimmering line of the fall's leading edge slicing in over the water was unmistakeable. R'meri's heart beat faster in a combination of fear and excitement as he recognized their age old enemy.

Nemath swung his head around over his shoulder and R'meri fed him fistfuls of firestone, careful to avoid the dragon's gleaming teeth. The brown chewed quickly, crunches and rumbles reverberating through his rider's body as the flame producing gases mixed in the dragon's stomach. R'meri had barely enough time to whisper a quick prayer before Thread was upon them and Nemath dove, flaming, to meet it.

As a boy, the young Romeri had thought of nothing but dragons. He had always sneaked peeks out between the shutters at the Weyr's dragons fighting in the sky above his family's small cothold, despite his mother's scolding and pulling him away from the window by his ears. Romeri always had to see the dragons, even though all he could see during those brief glimpses was blurred splotches of color—bronze, green, blue, and brown—spouting tongues of orange flame, and flashes of the golden queens' wing underneath.

The glimpses were enough. He recreated each battle in his mind, but this time, he was up there with them, mounted on his own flaming beast. Every time, it was the brave R'meri who saved the battle, and all of Pern, without ever perspiring a drop or suffering a single Threadscore. Romeri had always imagined that fighting Threadfall was graceful, glamorous work. It hadn't looked that difficult, from his vantage point between the shutters. How wrong he had been.

Sweat dripped into R'meri's eyes, ran down the back of his neck, and soaked his shirt under all the wherhide, but he barely noticed.

_At least it's not cold,_ he thought wryly, but the thought was banished from his mind almost as soon as it arrived. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted; he could only concentrate on the fight. Gouts of flame, dragon wings, Thread, and sky flashed in his vision as Nemath whirled.

During his first fall after Weyrling graduation, R'meri had been disoriented and overwhelmed. Only the drills they had practiced over and over again had saved him from panicking. Now, although it hadn't even been a turn, he knew where and at what to look: not to focus on clumps that were out of their range, to be aware when his wingmates needed to be covered, and to never let his mind wander.

_Nemath, to your left!_ shouted R'meri in warning. He ducked instinctively away, although it did nothing to impact Nemath's movement.

The brown turned and belched a wide tongue of flame that charred an oncoming clump of Thread. The silver filaments blackened and shriveled, the wind scattering them into black dust that drifted in the air.

_More stone!_ said Nemath urgently, swiveling his head back around. R'meri obliged, his gloved fingers scraping the bottom of the hide sack.

_We need another sack,_ said R'meri.

_I'll contact Myrnoth,_ Nemath replied. He swallowed the chewed stone and reentered the fight with fresh flame. _L'rad, rider of brown Helenth, is coming._

R'meri nodded, straightening up as the younger pair came out of _between_ above them. The young dragon beat his wings determinedly to keep a stable position as his rider readied the sack to toss. R'meri was astonished at the small size of the other brown compared to Nemath. It hadn't been that long since they were weyrlings. Had Nemath really grown that much? R'meri grinned mentally, remembering when he had crewed falls as a weyrling. That first call out to replenish a rider's firestone had banished any of his remaining daydreams that Threadfall was a glamorous affair.

_Watch out!_

The warning call came at the same time as the weyrling's toss, and confused, R'meri's attention broke away. He focused on the wayward knot of Thread headed straight for him, forgetting the firestone sack sailing through the air overhead. Nemath reared back to flame, but the sack landed first. It slammed into R'meri's shoulder and knocked him over his dragon's side, the rider's leg twisting sharply in his harness. Nemath bellowed in alarm, his flame feathering out and barely blackening the ends of the silvery filaments. He slewed to the right, as R'meri's fall unbalanced him, and directly into the charred clump of Thread.

_Shards, _thought R'meri, in the instant right before the impact,_ this is going to hurt_.

---

The infirmary was busier than Teri had ever heard it before in her short stay at the Weyr. Normally, she was the only one ever in the infirmary, her solitude interrupted by periodical meals and checkups from various healers. Now, the door leading to the healers' bay never seemed to be closed, from the sounds coming from the other room: footsteps running past, skirts swishing, voices babbling, and the clattering of pottery against wood and stone.

"It's Threadfall today," explained an unfamiliar, oddly accented voice briefly in passing. "First fall in three and a half sevendays. Hopefully we won't be too busy with injuries."

Teri sat on a stool in the corner, feeling obscure and unnoticed to the loud but equally invisible world around her. No one addressed her, or even acknowledged her presence, that she knew of, but she supposed it was all for the best. She felt lost in all the bustle, the short stool her only anchor against being swept away in the busyness. Wren perched on her shoulder, his talons squeezing her skin through her thin tunic. He let out an odd chirp here and there, but the clamor left him mostly unaffected.

Teri reached up to scratch his head knob, his hide smooth and soft beneath her fingertips. Faire had taken her to the bathing chamber earlier in the morning, Teri and Wren's first bath since leaving Keroon. The first thing she had noticed was the smell, of herbs, fresh water, and clean linen. It was entirely different from the dank bath hall in Keroon. Aren had always complained that the baths made him smell more like herdbeasts than the fields.

Teri bit her lip as she forced her thoughts into less painful ground. Sensing her distress, Wren nudged her fingers and curved against her palm, crooning. Teri sniffled and scratched Wren's neck harder, burying her sorrow with different thoughts. She straightened her skirt over her legs and settled herself onto the hard stool. Faire had given her clothes to wear, and even though they were worn and ill fitting, Teri was grateful to be properly clothed. She felt stronger too, and was glad she didn't have to spend another day in bed. If only she could see what was going on and even possibly help with something. She realized belatedly that the first casualties had already arrived.

The atmosphere had changed tangibly, in the voices of the healers, the footsteps rushing past. Teri swallowed hard as moans of wounded dragonriders became audible. She had to help, somehow, instead of cowering in the corner. She didn't know much about healercraft, but she wanted to do something. A small bubble of hope rose in her chest, that maybe this was her chance, her time to prove herself. Then she felt ashamed for her selfish motives.

_There are wounded people that need helping and all you can think about is yourself_, she scolded herself fiercely. Wren cheeped and Teri recognized Faire's voice nearing.

"Faire! Faire!" she cried, throwing out her hand to stop the healer and rising halfway from her seat.

"Yes, Teri, what do you want?" Faire asked, her voice patient, but Teri's sharp ear caught an edge of suppressed exasperation in her tone.

"Please, Faire, can I help with something?"

A hand patted Teri's arm half-heartedly. "No, no. Don't worry, we'll be fine," she replied, distracted.

Teri caught hold of the healer's wrist as she began to withdraw. "Faire, please. Let me do something," she persisted, ignoring the other woman's irritation.

"Faire! We need you, they're bringing in another one!" called a voice from across the room.

There was a sharp exhalation from the healer and Teri held her breath, hoping.

"Oh, all right," said Faire. She raised her voice in reply to the other call, "I'll be right there!" Her fingers gripped Teri's firmly and she pulled the girl to her feet. "Come on, follow me."

Teri's heart leaped and she smiled despite the urgency of the situation. She wouldn't fail, not now, she knew she wouldn't. Faire's hand towed her quickly across the room and Teri had to turn her attention to her feet. All she could do was to follow as best as she could without tripping.

Voices were raised loudly when Faire stopped, and a press of bodies nearly made Teri lose her grasp on the healer's hand. Wren huddled close to Teri's neck, chattering reproachfully at the close quarters.

"He's scored badly, and it looks like a dislocated leg too. Move him into the infirmary," said Faire's voice. "We'll need sutures and fellis."

"Wait, please," said a hoarse voice. It was vaguely familiar, but Teri didn't know from where. "Please help my dragon. Nemath, he's hurt, he—"

"It's okay," said Faire soothingly. "He'll be fine. Don't worry, we have healers attending to him. Right now we need to take care of you. Come on, let's get him inside," she raised her voice, "and it won't take everyone. Get back to work, all of you."

The people pressed against Teri muttered sympathies and left slowly.

"He's hurt bad. Did you see those scores?"

"Worst I've seen so far."

"He'll be lucky to keep that eye."

Teri scooted closer to Faire as soon as she had more room, gripping her hand tight, her heart in her mouth. The smell of sweat and a slightly spicy odor that she assumed was dragon filled her nostrils, mixed with the sharp scent of blood and something else. Something that smelled sickly sweet, like burnt flesh. Teri swallowed again and followed as the group made their way towards the infirmary. Footsteps shuffled hurriedly, accompanied by the sound of dragging boots and harsh breathing punctuated every so often by a gasp or a sharp cry of pain.

"Careful, careful, watch his leg. Lay him down here," Faire ordered. "Jana, do you have the fellis yet? No, not numbweed. He has too many surface scores, it'd be best just to put him out now. Here," she said to Teri, drawing her close. The healer pulled her hand away and replaced it with a different one, broader, callused, and clammy. "Hold onto him and don't let go." And then she was gone, the door shutting behind her.

The unfamiliar hand gripped Teri's tightly and she winced as her fingers were nearly crushed. She wrapped her other hand around his, at a loss for what to do. For a fleeting moment, she regretted ever leaving her stool. Wren crooned softly and crawled down from Teri's shoulder. The little fire lizard's claws stopped on her forearm and his nose nudged her hands.

The wounded rider's breathing rasped louder, his breath fanning her face.

Teri forced what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "It's okay," she said in an attempt to soothe, racking her brains for something to say.

The rider gasped. "It's you," he whispered incredulously.

"Uh, yes, it is me. My name is Teri," she replied uncertainly, her smile faltering. The feeling she had had that his voice was peculiarly familiar returned. She shook her head. It probably meant nothing. He was most likely delirious. "You're safe now, just rest. You don't have to worry about anything." She squeezed his hand reassuringly despite the fact that she was losing feeling in her fingers.

"I'm so glad to see you," he said, painting hard for breath. The rider's breath left her face and the pressure on her hand lessened slightly.

Teri's mouth hung open as all lucid thought fled her mind. She was dumbfounded, confused.

_Why would he be glad to see _me

The door to the infirmary opened and outside noise spilled in, two sets of footsteps entering.

"Here you go, R'meri," said Faire gently. Her footsteps traced to the other side of the bed and there was the sound of clay being set down against wood. "We're going to dose you will fellis, okay? Nemath is going to be fine. Don't you worry about him, all right? Jana, come here and hold his head. Watch his scores."

Teri held R'meri's hand with both of hers while the two healers worked. The fellis took effect almost immediately and the rider's grip loosened, his breath steadying, but Teri didn't want to leave him. Her skin tingled as the blood rushed back into her fingers.

"Thank you Teri," said Faire curtly. "We'll be okay from here. Hand me the shears, Jana. We're going to have to cut the wherhide off of him."

Teri slowly let R'meri's hand go, laying it on the smooth sheets, unable to identify why exactly her gut was twisting painfully. She followed the bed to the wall and backed away, fingers tracing the cool stone. She didn't realize until the wood hit the back of her knees that she had made it back to her stool. Wren made his way back up to her shoulder and his tail wrapped securely around her neck, making little noises of distress.

"It's okay," Teri whispered to him and rubbed her cheek against his trembling side, sitting down. "He'll be okay. He'll get better, don't worry."

_Please, let him be okay_, she thought. _I can't lose someone else._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

* * *

Groggy, R'meri woke to the dim light of glows instead of the bright sunlight he was accustomed to in his weyr. A fuzzy blotch of color swam in one eye; the other was swollen and bandaged shut. White gauze framed his vision. R'meri blinked and the face of a girl slowly came into focus above him. Wide spaced brown eyes stared at him below a cap of dark hair. He recognized her; she was the girl from the merchant caravan in the forest. And she was holding his hand.

"Hey. What are you doing?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

The girl—Teri, he remembered now—jumped at his voice. The little bronze fire lizard on her shoulder squawked as his perch jolted beneath him. Color flooded the girl's face and she dropped his hand as if it were a tunnelsnake. She muttered something unintelligible, rising to leave.

R'meri instantly regretted the harshness of his words. He didn't mean to scare her off. In fact, he wanted to talk to her and get to know her better, having thought and worried about her ever since they had found her. He was so glad to see her fully recovered. "Wait, don't go! I didn't mean to startle you," he said, propping himself up on one elbow as she stepped away.

The girl stopped and turned back towards him, uncertain emotions flickering over her face.

"Please stay, Teri," he said. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but his other arm was strapped in a sling against his chest. "It'd be nice to have company," he finished awkwardly. The infirmary was completely empty except for them, and he did want to talk to her, and not just because she was the only other person around.

Teri's brow furrowed and for an instant, R'meri wondered if he had said the wrong thing. Then she nodded and slowly sat back down on her stool. Relieved, R'meri lowered himself back onto the bed, gasping softly at the pain. The numbweed had obviously worn off a little.

"You're hurting?" she asked in concern.

R'meri shook his head. "Not much. I'll be all right," he said brightly.

"Let the healers decide that. You're in bad shape. I should get Jana." She made to stand up again but R'meri pulled at her arm.

"I've survived so far, I think I'll live for a little while longer." He smiled ruefully, surveying his various wounds. His left arm and leg were both bound with thick bandages, the latter splinted and raised on an overturned bowl. It seemed like his chest and left shoulder had been scored the worst, and a little on his face, from the masses of linen swathing his upper body. "How long have I been out?" he asked.

"Two days," replied Teri.

Two days! R'meri tried to get up, but he fell back as sharp pain lanced through his left side. He had never been out of action for that long before, and it was obvious that he'd have to take an even longer time to recover. "Oh shells, Nemath must be insane with worry." Belatedly, he reached out to his dragon. _Nemath, are you there?_

_You're awake!_ The joyous reply burst into his thoughts and he grinned.

_Yes, how are you doing?_ asked R'meri.

_I'm fine, but they won't let me in to see you,_ said Nemath plaintively.

"Nemath is your dragon, right?" asked Teri. She was staring down at one hand in her lap, the other at her neck, fiddling with a small pendant on a braided cord. "I'm still learning about the Weyr."

Promising Nemath that they would talk more later, R'meri nodded. "Oh. That's right, you've been here less than a sevenday, haven't you?"

Teri frowned again and raised her head. "How did you know that? Have we met before?" she asked.

"Oh, I guess we haven't, not technically. We—well, Nemath and I—found you in the forest and brought you here, so that's how I know you," said R'meri. He wished he could see out of both eyes. Darkness kept encroaching on the edges of his vision in his one good eye unless he blinked constantly.

"So you saved my life?" Teri asked softly, tracing an invisible design on the blanket.

R'meri blushed and shrugged his uninjured shoulder. "No, not me. We saw the caravan and found you, but N'hal is the one who did the saving."

"Well, thank you. I guess I owe you my life," said Teri.

R'meri didn't know what to say. He cleared his throat and smiled uncertainly. He wished he could sit up or something. It was awkward to converse while lying down. "I'm R'meri," he said to break the silence, "rider of brown Nemath."

A small smile twitched at the corners of Teri's mouth. She motioned to herself and replied, "My name is Teri. This little fellow is Wren." The firelizard chirped brightly and R'meri laughed. Teri's smile wavered, then broadened slightly. "We're from Keroon."

"Well," said R'meri happily, nodding to both the girl and her firelizard. "welcome to Benden."

---

The glazed ceramic cup was cool and smooth beneath Teri's fingers. She ran her hands over the rim and sides, following the tracks that the potter's fingers had made. It was unadorned, a practical shape with a wide bottom and high, steep sides, yet there was a quiet beauty in its simplicity. Teri smiled sadly and put it back on the table beside the bed. Here she was, in one of the most important and exciting places on Pern, and all she could do was admire pottery. She sighed and turned her attention to Faire and R'meri. The healer was making a detailed examination of R'meri's injuries.

"How are your scores?" asked the healer's brisk voice. "Are they painful?"

"Not really," replied R'meri. "I'm a little sore, but that's only when I try to move." He had a nice voice, Teri reflected, full of tones and inflections. It was fun to listen to him talk and imagine what sort of facial expressions would accompany each phrase.

Wren chattered on her shoulder, relating his various exploits around the Weyr to her, of flying over the fire heights with other firelizard fairs, and playing with the dragons in the lake. He had met Nemath, she guessed from the mental image of a scored brown dragon followed by one of a bandaged man lying in bed. Teri pondered over Wren's depiction of the brownrider, comparing it with her own imagination. According to the firelizard, R'meri was thin and gangly, not yet having filled out his lanky frame. An unruly mop of reddish brown hair flopped into muddy green eyes. Well, one muddy green eye. The other was covered by a patch, giving him a comical look. He had a fair dusting of freckles scattered across his crooked nose and sun reddened skin and an earnest smile.

Teri wrinkled her nose, Wren's R'meri completely different from the one in her imagination. It seemed odd to have such an unfamiliar face to match with his voice. She had imagined him taller and not as skinny, with curly hair and grey eyes. With a start, Teri realized that her mental image of the brownrider was a younger version of Aren.

Teri's eyes smarted and she ducked her head as tears appeared from nowhere and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She missed Aren so much. Too much had happened in the past sevenday. It seemed so long ago, the morning after the Gather when her entire world had changed. And with her arrival and adjustment to the Weyr and Aren's death, she hadn't had any time to process everything properly. And now she was being sent back.

It would be somewhat of a relief to go back to Keroon, if only because it was familiar territory, but she didn't know if she really wanted to go back or not. She was out of her depth at the Weyr, constantly feeling lost and a burden to everyone around her. Even if there was no life for her to return to at Keroon, she would be among people she knew and who had raised her, but Keroon was so full of memories, of Aren, of her parents. She didn't know if she could return to a place that constantly reminded her of what she had lost. She didn't want to go back to Keroon without Aren.

Teri also didn't want to leave R'meri without getting to know him better, or before he recovered. Meeting him was the only good that Teri had experienced at the Weyr. It had been so long since she had met someone who genuinely cared about her and wasn't afraid to show it. R'meri was the closest thing to a friend that she had had in a long time, even though they had only met a few days ago. They had been in each other's company almost all the time since they met. She would miss him so much; she didn't think she could go back to a friendless place.

But what could she do if she stayed at the Weyr? Live in the infirmary and hold the hands of wounded dragonriders? Noble as that task was, it wasn't enough. At least at Keroon she had her pottery. Even though Mhera and Lena didn't take her efforts seriously, she knew she could prove them wrong, work hard and gain their respect. Teri sighed, her heart torn.

"You're lucky that there aren't any infections. You're healing well," said Faire, pulling Teri's attention to the present.

R'meri laughed, relieved. "I'm glad. The sooner I get out of here the better. I can't wait to fly again."

"Well, that probably won't be for a while, so don't get too eager," said Faire.

"Will I miss the hatching?" asked R'meri fearfully.

"When is it due?" asked the healer.

"We can't be sure," said R'meri, "but it will be soon. Probably anytime in the next sevenday."

"Then there's no way that you'll be able to make it," said Faire kindly. "I'm sorry."

R'meri sighed mournfully and the sheets rustled as he fidgeted. "Teri, I'm so sad that I'm going to miss the hatching."

"I'll miss it too," said Teri wistfully. She imagined R'meri pouting and couldn't help but to chuckle, a bittersweet feeling in her chest. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"What?" asked R'meri, shocked. "You can't!"

"I'm going home," said Teri. She was touched by his reaction, and distressed at the same time. _He doesn't want me to go!_ she thought. _Does that mean he wants me to stay?_

"Home? But what about the hatching?"

Teri frowned. She hadn't thought that she would have been invited to attend the hatching if she were there, nor had she thought that she would go. "I don't mind missing it," she said.

"What do you mean, you don't mind? Aren't you a candidate?" R'meri asked in dismay.

"A candidate?" asked Teri blankly. She was totally lost. Was he delirious again or something? Wren cheeped questioningly. One of the firelizard's images popped up in Teri's mind, of R'meri's face. The brownrider's expression was anything but delirious.

"You know, like a prospective dragonrider? Didn't you know that you were Searched?" he asked.

"No," said Teri slowly. "Wait, I was Searched? When?" Teri felt ecstatic hope suffuse her, but half of her held back, not wanting to believe it lest it all turn out to be a dream. But to have a chance to become a dragonrider! It was the solution to everything. She would be able to stay at the Weyr and her life would have meaning. She would be important, one of the most important people on Pern! No one would ever be able to call her useless again. A dragonrider! She raised her hands to her face in wonder.

"You can't possibly leave before the hatching. Rinth thinks you will impress. N'hal didn't tell you—Shells!" R'meri swore. "Faire, is N'hal here?" he asked the healer.

"I can check," she answered and her footsteps left the room.

Teri was overjoyed, her troubles forgotten. This was why she had been brought to the Weyr. It was fate, it had to be.

"Is everything all right in here?" asked N'hal's voice soon afterwards, coming through the door.

"N'hal, you didn't tell Teri that she's a candidate?" asked R'meri incredulously.

N'hal's approaching footsteps stopped in their tracks and there was a sharp intake of breath. "Oh no," he whispered. "There's been a big mistake. Teri, I'm so sorry."

"Does this mean I can stay? Because I don't mind not going back," said Teri quickly, her heart fluttering in excitement. "I don't have to go home yet."

"Oh shells, how can I possibly explain?" N'hal muttered.

"What happened?" asked R'meri. "Did you just forget?"

"No, you don't understand, that's not the problem," said N'hal, pained. He sighed and continued haltingly. "Teri, you—you're not a candidate."

Teri's heart jolted and her breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean? Did I not get searched or something?" she asked fearfully.

"No, Rinth searched you, but you aren't going to stand for the hatching," N'hal replied softly.

"What? Why not?" cried R'meri. "Anyone who's been searched has to be a candidate. That's how it is, how it's always been."

"I know, but the Weyrleader won't allow her to stand."

"Why?" R'meri demanded.

"Because—because she's blind."

Teri felt her heart plummet, her hopes crushed. She had known, somehow, that it couldn't work out, that her problems couldn't be solved so easily. She felt so stupid, so ridiculous to have hoped for the impossible only to be left devastated when everything fell through. She would always be useless, there was no changing that. Wren trilled softly in her ear but she pushed him away.

"How does that ban her from candidacy?" asked R'meri hotly. "What does being blind have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything," said Teri dully. Something had broken inside of her and there was nothing left to hold back her despair. "N'hal's right, I can't be a candidate. I shouldn't impress."

"What?" R'meri was incredulous. He couldn't believe his ears, what he was hearing. Was Teri actually agreeing with N'hal? He looked quickly at the greenrider, and the other man was as shocked as he. Teri sat quietly on her stool, her white knuckled grip on her skirt the only sign of her distress. The little bronze had left and she looked incredibly small without him. Her expression was bleak, her eyes bright with unshed tears staring at the floor.

"Don't tell me you don't want to," said R'meri. "Everyone everywhere has dreamed of riding a dragon."

"But I can't. I wouldn't be a good rider," said Teri, unable to deny it any longer.

"That's not true!" R'meri exclaimed. He didn't know Teri extremely well, but he knew that she would make a wonderful rider. "What did B'nonin say? What were his reasons?" he asked fiercely, pulling himself as best as he could into a sitting position.

N'hal shut his eyes and scrubbed his hands over his face. "He said—" he sighed and his voice was muffled against his palms, "he said it wouldn't be safe, that a blind dragonrider would be a hazard to herself and others."

R'meri looked at Teri; her features were crumpled and she looked utterly defeated.

"He's right," she whispered brokenly. "I would be worse than useless as a dragonrider."

N'hal cringed to hear so much of his conversation with B'nonin and J'den repeated here. None of it sat easy with him, yet if Teri believed it, could it possibly all be true? He felt awful. He had thought that Teri would never have found out, would never have been hurt. He didn't know what to do. There was too much happening all at once, with Rinth's mating flight, search and the impending hatching.

"I'm so sorry, Teri," he mumbled and hurriedly left the room, trying to squash the feeling that he was running away.

"This is all wrong," said R'meri when N'hal's footsteps were gone. "This isn't how it works. You haven't committed any crime, it's your right to have a chance at impression."

"You don't understand," said Teri, breathing hard around the tears she was trying to keep back. "I don't want to be a candidate. I don't want to impress." R'meri made a noise in objection, but she cut him off. "B'nonin's right, I can't impress. I would be not only useless, but dangerous. I'm blind, R'meri. I've never been able to do anything right, much less fly a dragon."

"There are ways around that," said R'meri. "Blindness can't keep you from being a good rider."

"Then it's me!" cried Teri. "It's me, I'm all wrong, completely useless. Maybe a blind person could be a good dragonrider. Other blind people succeed and help other people, but I can't. I've tried, you have no idea how hard I've tried." Tears streamed down Teri's cheeks and her nose dripped onto her hands as she dashed them away. _I wish my nose wouldn't run when I cry. Can't I have that one at least?_ she thought bitterly. She was trying to hold onto her last vestiges of dignity, but she didn't think she could succeed. Her cheeks grew hot and the back of her neck prickled with shame. Of course she had to fall apart in front of R'meri. Each breath she took was a shuddering mess, fighting past sobs and hiccups. "I'm stupid and selfish and too proud to admit that I need help. All I can think about is myself and how worthless I am. Whenever I think I can do something, when I think I can actually help, it never works out, and then I just end up hurting people. You don't know what I've done," she trailed off, sniffling miserably.

"What? What happened?" asked R'meri gently.

Teri heaved air into her lungs and blew it out slowly. "I got my brother killed," she whispered. "He died because of me." R'meri was silent and she braced herself to continue. "It was during the attack, in the merchant's caravan, when the bandits came." Words were tumbling out, faster than she could control, far too much for her to break off or hold back. She told the whole story, starting from Aren's death and going backwards, digging deeper and deeper into her past until everything was laid out. All the bitterness and insecurity she had been hiding inside of her came pouring out like infected fluid from a boil.

R'meri let out a long sigh as Teri's narrative came to a limping end. She was weeping openly now, unable to speak past her sobs. She had been through so much and R'meri had had no idea. He wondered how someone could possibly live with so much grief pent up inside. He reached out to Teri and took her face gently in one hand, searching for something to say. "Teri," he began, his gaze flicking back and forth between her eyes, "you are not useless or worthless or anything else that you say you are. Your brother's death was not your fault."

"But if he hadn't been protecting me, he wouldn't have died," she wailed. "He was stabbed because he was shielding me with his own body."

_I can't not look after you. I've done it my whole life. I love you too much to let anything happen to you._ Aren's words echoed in Teri's memory and she squeezed her watering eyes shut. _Why couldn't I have listened?_

R'meri's fingers grew wet and he wished he could use his other arm so he could wipe away some of Teri's tears. "Teri, Aren didn't die because he was protecting you. He died because the bandits attacked. It was their fault and theirs alone. You had no control over what they did. It's not like they attacked because you were there. It's not your fault."

"Then it should have been me." Teri pulled away from R'meri's grasp, an expression of self-loathing etched onto her features. "I should have been killed, not him. I'm not worth it. No one would miss me, but he was so wonderful. It would have been better for everyone if I died."

"Oh Teri, that's not true," he murmured. "If you had died, who would have been there to hold my hand?" He pulled her to him and wrapped her in a one-armed embrace. To his surprise, she didn't resist, leaning her head against his shoulder and crying softly into his chest. Teri didn't know how much she needed a hug until she had felt R'meri's arm around her. The simple gesture stripped away any remaining inhibitions and she no longer worried about her dignity or what he thought of her. It was a relief to let everything out, to share her burden with someone else. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted and for the first time in a long time she let herself cry.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

* * *

Teri had a peculiar feeling in her chest as she ran her fingers over Nemath's smooth hide. She couldn't identify it, a mix between awe and longing. She laid her palm flat against the dragon's snout, feeling the warmth emanating from his powerful muscles, the bumps and pockmarked scars from the hot ash that came from charred thread. The spicy scent of dragon filled her lungs and clung to the inside of her nostrils. Nemath snuffled, a gust of warm air blowing Teri's hair back and she giggled, reminded of the times she and Aren had snuck into the stables to see the runnerbeasts. Wren chirruped on her shoulder and rubbed against her cheek like a cat, as if reminding her that he also needed attention, and he was a bronze at that.

"He's beautiful," said Teri, smiling despite the ache in her throat. She could feel the bass vibrations in her chest as Nemath rumbled in reply.

"He likes you," said R'meri's voice behind her. He clumped closer, his crutch thudding dully against the hard ground. "He says he's glad that we found you."

"I'm glad too," Teri murmured softly. She let her hand rest against Nemath for a moment longer, not wanting to let go. _This is what I could have had_, she thought to herself. _If I could only impress_. With a sigh, she pulled her hand away. "I'm glad I got to meet him," she said, "before I leave."

"Teri-"

"Don't, R'meri. We've had this conversation a million times already." Or at least it felt like a million times. Most of them had taken place in her mind. She had struggled enough with herself to decide to leave and she didn't need R'meri to give her second thoughts. "My mind is made up."

"But it's wrong," said R'meri adamantly. "You should at least try. Forget what N'hal said. B'nonin has no right to keep you from being a candidate."

Teri's heart squeezed sharply. Why did R'meri have to bring this up again? Didn't he remember anything from their conversation the day before? She didn't need to be reminded, especially now with her doubts rampant. "He's the Weyrleader," she said tautly.

"Well, he doesn't know everything," said R'meri. "Teri, I don't want you to go, I want you to stay. Just think about it, if you impressed, it would solve so much!"

"I've thought about it," said Teri, gritting her teeth and twisting her skirt in her hands. He had no idea how much she'd thought and how much she wanted it.

"Then why are you leaving?" R'meri asked. "Why don't you stay and prove B'nonin wrong?"

Teri paused, trying to force words out of her tight throat. "I don't want to take the risk." Shells, she didn't even know if she could impress. What if she did just go out there and disobey the Weyrleader, only to end up left alone on sands? It was a thought too painful to think about.

"Won't you regret it, passing up this opportunity?" asked R'meri.

Teri bit her lip, trying not to think about that. She could imagine what it would be like, turns from now, looking back. Would she be haunted by wondering all her life? She felt like she was going to burst, with her thoughts and insides all pulling in different directions. "I don't want to take any more risks," she repeated unhappily.

"But this could be the solution to everything!" said R'meri eagerly.

"I don't want to talk about it," said Teri. She felt miserable cutting him off like this, but it was for the best. He couldn't know how much she wanted to be a candidate, to hopefully impress and become a dragonrider. It would only hurt more to raise both their hopes because it couldn't happen.

R'meri was silent for a moment. "When are you leaving?" he asked quietly.

Teri shrugged. "Whenever N'hal gets back." Or at least that's when she hoped she was leaving, if N'hal was willing to take her back.

R'meri's heart sank. He was running out of time. He let out a sigh and leaned hard on his crutch. His good leg quivered with the effort of keeping his balance and he felt himself growing lightheaded. He guessed that he might have wrenched his arm in his exertions. The numbweed would wear off soon, and he didn't think he could keep standing for much longer. Faire would murder him if she knew he had left his bed, but he couldn't stay in the infirmary and just let Teri leave.

_Nemath, say something!_ he pleaded silently. Maybe a dragon's opinion would hold more weight than his own.

_Why do you want her to stay so much?_ asked Nemath curiously.

_Can't you see that she needs to impress? It would solve everything!_ said R'meri, blinking hard to keep his vision focused past his bandages.

_She doesn't need to impress a dragon to solve her problems,_ said Nemath. _She's a good person and a dragon wouldn't make her better._

_I know that, but that's not what I mean_, said R'meri. It was so frustrating to see Teri shunted aside, her dreams crushed. It was wrong, to deny her what brought him such joy. He couldn't imagine what life would be like if he and Nemath were kept her from flying._ She would be a good dragonrider,_ R'meri continued.

_If you say so, I'm no Search dragon._ Nemath shifted his weight closer to his swaying rider, eyeing him reproachfully._ You're hurting, you should sit down._

_I'll be all right,_ said R'meri. He leaned gratefully against Nemath's broad side, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. _I need to convince Teri to stay._

_I do like her_, admitted Nemath.

R'meri sighed again and smiled sadly. He slid slowly into a sitting position, stretching his splinted leg out in front of him. _Me too._ He looked up at Teri, so small next to Nemath's bulk. She had her head cocked to one side as if listening to some far off sound, an anxious look on her face. What he felt for her didn't come only from playing a part in saving her life. He wanted the best for her, but he wanted more for her to stay at the Weyr.

"Why do you want to go so much?" he asked.

Teri turned her face towards him, her features betraying some internal struggle. "I miss my home," she mumbled. Or, at least she missed the home she had had. Everything would be different, but she hoped it wouldn't change anything. She wished she could just forget everything and curl up in her mother's embrace. Or hear Aren laugh again and see her father smile.

"Yes, but why do you want to leave here?" R'meri pressed.

Teri's insides squirmed uncomfortably. She didn't feel ready to share all of her feelings. She was afraid that her rationale would sound frail and transparent if she voiced them aloud, or R'meri would change her mind somehow. She just needed to leave, to get away from everything. She didn't know if it would be better in Keroon, but she couldn't live in the Weyr. To stay in a place surrounded by a dream she could never attain would be torture. Going back to Keroon would hurt too, but not as much as staying in the Weyr.

"Is it the people or something?" R'meri asked, his voice cracking. "Do you dislike us?"

"No, of course not," said Teri hurriedly. "You have all cared for me more than anyone in Keroon. If I could stay, I would. I just don't belong here."

"Do you have to leave so soon?" asked R'meri quietly.

Teri bit her lip and nodded in response. R'meri was silent, and she felt horrible. She wished she could spend more time with him, but she had to leave before the Hatching. It would be unbearable to be so close, only to have others impress while she sat on the side.

R'meri slumped against Nemath, wondering what he had done wrong, that she was adamant against staying. Maybe he shouldn't have tried so hard to change her mind. But he wanted her to stay so much.

_It's not your fault,_ Nemath assured him. _You did everything you could have done._

_But did I do too much?_ asked R'meri despondently.

_Of course not_, replied Nemath.

R'meri smiled wearily. Unconditional love didn't always mean unconditional honesty, but it was nice to hear. At least he had Nemath, whatever happened.

_Rinth and N'hal are coming._ Nemath raised his head and bugled a greeting.

R'meri craned his neck and caught a glimpse of glowing green wings before they banked out of view behind Nemath's flank. He pulled himself up slowly, dejection weighing him down like lead as he watched Rinth come down to land.

Great gusts of air blew into Teri's face, dust stinging her eyes. The whooshing sound of great wings filled her ears and wind swirled around her. She felt the impact vibrating up through her legs as a huge weight hit the ground in front of her. Something snorted dragon breath into her face. A Wren produced image of a huge green flipping her wings primly to her back and observing them curiously popped into her head.

"Hello Teri. Sorry about Rinth," said N'hal's voice from far overhead.

"Hello, Rinth," said Teri faintly, taking a step backwards.

_Hello Teri._ Teri started. She had heard the voice, but not with her ears. It was inside her head, a deep yet feminine, intelligently feral voice. Comprehension dawned slowly. Did a dragon just speak to her? Wren squeaked and shrank against her neck.

"What are you doing out here R'meri? You should be in bed," said N'hal in concern, swinging down from Rinth's neck to kneel by the younger rider. What was he thinking? N'hal wondered. And how in Faranth did he manage to get out of the infirmary?

"No," said R'meri hoarsely, waving N'hal away feebly. "I'll be fine here."

"Don't be ridiculous." N'hal hoisted R'meri gently to his feet and supporting his weight. "I'm taking you inside."

"No, I have to stay with Teri," the brownrider protested. He looked pale and beads of perspiration dotted his forehead and upper lip.

"That's sweet of you, but you won't be helping her or yourself any if you relapse into a fever," said N'hal sternly. "You're going back to bed."

"So I guess this is goodbye?" asked Teri, forcing out each word. She wasn't used to goodbyes. She hadn't been able to say goodbye to her parents, or Aren, or even Mhera and Lena for that matter. Did this mean that she was never going to see R'meri again? Something deep inside her hurt at the thought. "Thank you for everything," she mumbled.

"No, you can't leave," said R'meri desperately. "Don't go, please. N'hal, you have to let me stay out here, I have to convince her not to go."

N'hal grimaced at R'meri's piteous pleas, hating himself. All he wanted to do was help, and all he managed to do was hurt. He had had to crush Teri's hopes twice already, informing her about her brother's death and then telling her that she couldn't be a candidate. And now he had to crush R'meri's. The brownrider could barely stand, yet he was willing to do whatever it took to make Teri stay. They didn't know, but she had no choice, she was being sent home on B'nonin's orders whether she wanted to or not. He growled mutinously under his breath. _I wonder if B'nonin would be so eager to give out these orders if he had to carry them out_.

"I can stay with Nemath," R'meri begged, trying to pull away from N'hal's firm grip.

"Go inside," said Teri. She didn't know what to think anymore. R'meri's protestations were eating away at her resolve. Could she leave when he wanted her to stay so much? Her head buzzed with confusion, a deep humming filling her ears.

Nemath raised his head ponderously and blinked, a thin inner eyelid sliding down over his eyes with a soft click. He felt unconsciously all the other dragons in the Weyr do the same. Somewhere, far out on the edge of his awareness, something stirred, a tiny consciousness opening its mind to the world. The brown dragon snuffled with joy and urged it on in wordless encouragement, drawing air into his vast lungs to hum.

N'hal gasped, his gaze flicking up to the two dragons where they sat, a myriad of colors whirling over their faceted eyes. "The Hatching," he said, as the cry echoed around them, a sudden flurry of activity rising and moving towards the hatching grounds. "It's happening now!"

"What?" cried Teri, her heart thumping in her ears. She could feel the deep humming vibrating in the ground and coming up through her legs.

"Teri, this is perfect!" said R'meri eagerly. "We can sneak you onto the hatching ground. N'hal will help us, right?"

"No, I need to leave now," said Teri, dread and panic mounting in her chest, her throat going dry. "N'hal, please, I need to leave."

N'hal looked from Teri to the hatching grounds back to R'meri's pleading face, feeling helplessly caught. He wanted to help Teri have what she wanted, but he didn't want to hurt R'meri. _Why does someone always have to get hurt?_ he cried in distress, blocking out the others' protests.

_There is another way,_ said Rinth. _You know what it is._

_But Teri doesn't want that. She said she didn't,_ said N'hal uncertainly.

_That doesn't matter, she's meant to impress,_ replied Rinth simply. She was so certain, could N'hal really doubt her? He looked back at Teri, could see the longing in her eyes that she had tried to suppress.

"Teri, do you really want to leave?" asked N'hal urgently, eyeing the stream of weyrfolk funneling through the tunnel into the hatching ground. He caught a flash of white tunics in the corner of his eye and grimaced. "I mean do you really not want to be a candidate?"

"But you said I can't!" said Teri, utterly confused. "You said that a blind person couldn't be a good rider."

"I was wrong," said N'hal. "Even now we still don't know everything about what makes a dragon and its rider."

"Don't you want to become a dragonrider?" pressed R'meri.

"Of course I do. You have no idea how much I want it. But isn't there a lot that has to take place for me to get there? What if I don't impress?" Teri felt that with every repetition, her reasoning grew smaller and thinner, desire and hope battling past all of her excuses.

"You will impress, Rinth said so," said N'hal, his feeling of being caught and out of control quickly fading. He was tired of being helpless. "Not that you should stand because you would make a good candidate, but that you're meant to impress."

Teri opened her mouth wordlessly, searching for something to say. She wanted to be a candidate, so why was she resisting? Wasn't N'hal's reassurance enough?

_Go to the hatching,_ said a low, soundless voice. Teri jumped in shock and wonder, recognizing its alien feel. Rinth was speaking to her again, telling her to go to the hatching! Teri's mind raced, trying to comprehend everything. It was so simple. It all came down to one choice, but why did it have to be so hard? Was it really sound reason that was holding her back, or just simple fear?

"_Won't you regret it, passing up this opportunity?"_

"_What if I don't impress?"_

At a twinge of pain in her hand, she realized how tightly she was clutching Aren's pendant. One of the pointed petals was jabbing into her palm. She let go of the necklace and rubbed the sore spot anxiously. Wouldn't Aren have wanted her to go?

"What do you want to do, Teri?" asked N'hal, pulling her out of her frantic contemplation.

Teri straightened her head and swallowed hard, fearful hope suffusing her. "Can you take me to the hatching?" she asked, apprehensively.

N'hal grinned, his relief punctuated by R'meri's whoop. "Of course I can. Come one, we'll have to find you a tunic."

---

J'den found his seat next to the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman in the risers overlooking the sand. He settled onto the stone and smiled, sounds of excited chatter and footsteps swirling around him. Thirty two mottled eggs, a good sized clutch, were ranged over the ground with the golden queen's egg nestled between Myrnoth's menacing claws. Every so often, one of the eggs would tremble, causing a tremor of awe to run through the people in the stands. The air was filled with a palpable sense of excitement, emphasized by the dragon's deep humming.

"Hello B'nonin. Aliana, you look well," he said.

"Thank you J'den. How fares it with you?" said Aliana, a thin, dark woman. She smiled and surreptitiously nudged the pensive Weyrleader in the side.

B'nonin started and blinked, a vaguely troubled expression on his face. "Oh, hello J'den," he murmured.

"It's a beautiful day for a hatching isn't it?" said J'den pleasantly, shading his eyes and gazing up into the sky, a washed out blue with scatterings of filmy clouds. "How is Myrnoth doing?"

Aliana rolled her eyes in an exaggerated expression. "This hatching couldn't have come any earlier. She's been as crochety as a proddy green. It will be good to get her off the sand and back into the air."

"She's done us all proud," said J'den, grinning broadly. "At least five bronzes in this clutch, I'd wager."

"Have you put any marks on that?" asked Aliana playfully. "I'm sure some of these dignitaries have brought purses that need to be lightened."

"No, I wouldn't take marks from guests of the Weyr," said J'den. He cast his eyes around the gathering crowd, picking out the families of the candidates from their excited and nervous gesturing. There were the Craftmasters, their rank displayed in rich clothes and commanding posture. Dragons swooped down to let off their passengers who scurried quickly into the stands. A sudden flurry of excitement rose from the end of the stands nearest to the entrance to the grounds and J'den craned his neck to see the white forms of the candidates marching in. Beside him, Aliana was doing the same. She shot him a quick, knowing smile and turned her attention back to the sand. J'den chuckled. He had lost count of how many hatchings he had attended, but they never grew dull, each one making him relive his own impression on the hot sand.

The dragons bringing latecoming guests made their drops and hurried away to settle among the others lining the Weyr shelf. Just one green remained on the sand, her rider carefully helping their white clad passenger down. J'den squinted down at the suddenly familiar form. That was N'hal and Rinth, but who was this candidate that they were bringing in the last instant? Did they go on another Search that he didn't know about? He thought they were supposed to be taking the blind merchant girl back to Keroon. J'den frowned. N'hal's candidate seemed to be unsure and unsteady in her movements, clinging to the greenrider's hands and groping around her as he guided her across the sand. With a start, he realized that she must be the blind girl. J'den jumped up furiously. The fool! Did N'hal really intend to make her a candidate? How could he disobey a direct order from the Weyrleader? J'den started to move down the risers as N'hal left the girl in the arc the other girls had formed around the eggs, but Aliana caught his sleeve.

"Where are you going, J'den?" she asked. "What's the matter?"

J'den turned back to the Weyrwoman, but his answer was drowned out by the crowd's collective gasp as the first egg broke open. A tiny blue lay crying piteously on his side in the remains of the eggshell, one wing fouled beneath him. The line of boys started forward, one curly haired boy faster than the rest. He knelt beside the glistening hatchling and helped him to his feet.

"B'nonin!" J'den shouted. "B'nonin, you have to stop her!" The Wingleader missed the first impression as he made his way to B'nonin, trying to raise his voice over the cheers and applause of the crowd as more and more eggs began to wobble and crack.

B'nonin had spotted Teri and realized who she was almost instantly. There was no mistaking the lean form of the greenrider as he sprinted back to the waiting Rinth, and he guessed that his passenger was the mysterious girl. He felt relief swelling in him, followed quickly by deflating shame. After his conversation with N'hal and J'den, B'nonin had tried unsuccessfully to convince himself that they had been right. He regretted yielding to J'den's argument, even though the bronzerider had valid objections. B'nonin sighed and leaned forward to watch intently, grateful that N'hal had been brave enough to do what he should have done.

---

N'hal dismounted and pulled off his riding gloves, kneeling on the edge of the shelf to see the sand below. He watched the shuffling forms of the dragons around him nervously, but they had eyes only for the hatching. Riders almost never stayed with their dragons on the Weyr shelf, but N'hal didn't have to nerve to go into the stands after defying the Weyrleader's orders.

_We did it, Rinth_, he said in relief, resting one hand on Rinth's foreleg beside him. _Now hopefully B'nonin won't have us thrashed._ He wiped sweat from his forehead and searched the ground for Teri.

About half of the eggs had already hatched: four blues, a brown, five greens, and two bronzes. Most of the girls were still standing around the queen egg, some of them casting worried glances at the greens that had already hatched and impressed, their convictions torn. N'hal gazed frantically over the broken eggs and remaining candidates, wishing that they hadn't chosen to dress Teri in the traditional white. He couldn't find her among all of the others. Then he spotted her and cursed. She was alone, disoriented and wandering in the wrong direction, away from the eggs. N'hal groaned and held his hands to his head. He should have realized that she wouldn't know what to do, not having been to the usual candidate training, and that without sight she would be especially helpless in the chaos of hatching.

_Shells, Rinth! She has no idea what's going on! _N'hal bit his lip and willed her to turn around, to get back to the eggs and impress. _Can we do anything?_ He had a disheartening feeling that it would all turn out very badly.

---

The first thing Teri noticed had when they reached the hatching ground was the heat. She had winced when her feet first touched the ground, the heat searing through the thin soles of her shoes. Now it was almost unbearable. Her feet burned as they sank into the deep sand with every step, the blazing grains finding their way into her shoes and sticking to her sweating skin.

The hatching was nothing like she had expected it to be. She had imagined it to be beautiful and orderly, each candidate impressing in quick succession. In reality, it was close to the worst experience of her life, mostly because it fell so short of her expectations. Teri could barely think with all the noise, the gasps and cheers from the crowds, the erratic cracking of eggshells, the squawking of the hatchlings, all underlaid by the incessant humming of the dragons. Wren huddled on her shoulder, trilling fearfully. With each new cry of jubilation from the successful candidates, Teri's heart sank, her own chances of impression dwindling. Despair had started to flutter in her throat, for she hadn't imagined that she would have to go to the hatchlings to impress. She didn't know where to go or what to do. Hatching was a fierce competition, and she was severely set back.

Teri stumbled as someone pushed past, falling to her hands and knees and unseating a squawking Wren. A spray of sand caught her in the face and she cried out, the maddeningly irritating grains stuck everywhere. Even her teeth felt gritty. She pushed herself upright and staggered forward, bitter tears washing the sand from her eyes. She knew she should never have tried to be a candidate. She could imagine everyone watching and jeering, laughing at the stupid blind girl who thought she could be a dragonrider. She just wanted to get out, to curl up in a corner and cry. Or better yet, disappear. Whimpers of shame and disappointment escaped past panting breaths as she struggled to make her way off the sand.

Suddenly, beating wings were in her face, a shrill voice squeaking at her. Teri cried out and lurched backwards.

"Wren, what are you doing?" she cried. "Stop it!" The fire lizard ignored her and continued to flap in her face, pushing her backwards. Teri tried to avoid his blows, retracing her steps back into the fray.

The crowd was starting notice the strange antics of the little bronze firelizard at the edge of the hatching sands. Heads were turning, fingers pointing. The little queen hatched and the line of girls started forwards warily, afraid of inciting Myrnoth's wrath, but few people noticed.

J'den watched, horrified, as the little firelizard pushed—no, herded—the girl back towards the eggs. It was ridiculous. The girl couldn't even see the hatchlings to impress them, she shouldn't be out there on the sand. He felt rooted to the spot, his body frozen against his mind's frantic protests. Gasps and scandalized chatter rose from the stands as the girl stumbled closer to the remaining eggs. She tottered, slipping on a broken eggshell, and to J'den's horror, tripped into a feebly rocking egg and broke through the shell.

"No!" The bronzerider cried. Suddenly galvanized into action, he tried to make his way down the risers to the sand, but the crowd was too dense.

The impact was completely unexpected to Teri. She had been expecting to hit the sand, not a hard, hot surface that fractured beneath her outstretched hands. Sharp edges scraped her arms and a wet membrane stuck to her fingers. She screamed and pushed away, fearing the worst, sand caking her wet hands. Had she just broken an egg? Had she injured the dragonet inside? Her mouth went dry with dread. She was no longer just some stupid girl who had assumed too much. She might have killed a dragon hatchling.

_Why do I always hurt everything?_ she thought in despair. _Why am I so useless?_

_You're not useless_, replied a voice anxiously. _My love, you didn't hurt me._

Teri felt something damp and smooth nudging her tear and sand streaked face, and she recoiled in fear.

_What's wrong? Don't you love me?_ pleaded the same voice.

"What? Who are you?" asked Teri fearfully.

_My name is Aeneth. Don't you want me?_

"Aeneth?" said Teri softly, comprehension slowly dawning, not wanting to believe it lest it all turn out to be a dream. What felt like a snout nuzzled her arm. "Are you a dragon?"

_I'm your dragon_, said Aeneth, her voice full of deep, unfaltering love.

"A dragon," murmured Teri, letting her fingers rest on Aeneth's smooth skin, to make sure she was real. "My dragon?" Then the full force of realization hit her and her heart leaped with joy. She felt Aeneth's love pouring through their spiritual link, engulfing every part of her being.

"Her name is Aeneth!" she shouted ecstatically, holding the little dragon's head in her hands. She had done it! Teri planted a kiss of Aeneth's snout, overwhelmed by joy, all of her fears banished. She had impressed, and nothing could take her away from her Aeneth, who loved her with all her heart.

---

N'hal and R'meri were waiting beside other candidate families to sweep Teri into a fierce hug once she was finished feeding Aeneth. N'hal tried to keep R'meri from injuring himself more, but the brownrider didn't care, cheering and pulling Teri into a tight embrace. Teri's ribs hurt from laughing and being hugged. She felt so safe and loved in her friends' embrace, finally where she belonged. Tears coursed down her cheeks, her heart aching with joy and sorrow. She wished Aren could have been there to celebrated with them.

Teri laughed breathlessly once the two riders let her go, her face glowing. She had transformed completely, no longer a scared, pale girl, but a confident young woman holding her head high.

"You did it!" cried R'meri ecstatically. "I knew you would! You impressed!"

"I almost didn't," she said, grinning. "But N'hal saved me. It was you, wasn't it? You and Rinth, telling Wren to act like that to get me back to the eggs." Her hands traced and retraced Aeneth's features lovingly, as if she were trying to memorize the hatchling's form exactly as it was. The tiny green looked up at her rider in adoration, her eyes drooping slowly with sleepiness.

"Not me," said N'hal, chuckling, "or Rinth. You were the one who impressed."

"But you helped, didn't you?" Teri repeated.

"What does it matter, you impressed didn't you?" said R'meri, unable to contain his delight. "You don't have to leave! You're a dragonrider, Teri!" He hugged her tightly again and N'hal wrapped them both in an embrace, laughing as R'meri wobbled on his crutch.

_Thank you Rinth,_ he thought silently. "Congratulations, Teri," he murmured, his heart squeezing with happiness. "You're a true dragonrider."

"I wouldn't celebrate so soon, N'hal," said a livid voice behind them.

N'hal and R'meri turned to see J'den glaring furiously at them, but mostly at Teri, his usually handsome face twisted into an ugly leer out of place among the celebrations.

"You aren't a dragonrider," J'den hissed, stabbing his finger menacingly at Teri. "Blind girls can't become dragonriders, we won't allow it. You will never fly." He turned on his heel and stalked away.

"What was that?" cried R'meri in outrage. "He's wrong, Teri, don't listen to him!"

Silently cursing the other rider's heartlessness, N'hal held Teri's shoulders and looked into her face. To his dismay, her cheeks glistened with tears. "Don't let him get to you, Teri, whatever he says. He doesn't know anything," he said urgently.

Teri shook her head and smiled. "I know he doesn't."

"You'll prove him wrong, won't you?" asked R'meri with a defiant grin.

"It doesn't matter," she said, stroking Aeneth's head tenderly. She didn't care about J'den or anything he said. No one could stop her now. She had Aeneth, and N'hal and R'meri, and a place in the Weyr. She was a dragonrider of Pern, and no one would ever call her useless.

_We will fly,_ she said confidently to her dragon.

_Love you,_ said Aeneth in sleepy reply. Her jaws opened wide in a yawn and she drifted off into sleep, dreaming in soft colors.

Teri smiled past her tears. _We'll fly for Aren. Someday._ She held Aeneth close, oblivious to everything around them except for the feeling that she, finally, belonged.


End file.
